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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935819">The Big Bad Wolf</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningStarGirl666/pseuds/MorningStarGirl666'>MorningStarGirl666</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wolfblood [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Vampire Diaries &amp; Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Full Shift Werewolves, Klaroline, Klaroline is Endgame, Original Character(s), Original Mythology, Seriously there's more crack than I initially planned, Slow Burn, The Mikaelsons acting like actual siblings, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:25:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>58,507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningStarGirl666/pseuds/MorningStarGirl666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the Big, Bad Wolf of this story, there was no doubt about that. But Caroline? She was the light to his darkness, the moon that shone brighter than even the stars in a sky of endless void. Like every wolf, he fell in love with the moon, and every month, he was destined to cry for a love he would never touch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wolfblood [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Little wolf.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is the continuation of 'The Little Wolf', which was previously titled 'Wolfblood' so I heavily suggest reading that first. That being said, you can read the first chapter here to get a feeling for the fic, if you don't want to go back and read the rest immediately.</p><p>A few things to consider before you start this story:<br/>1. This is an AU-Canon divergence with original characters and supernatural lore. 'The Little Wolf' and the first few chapters of this fic are focused on setting up these original aspects, and although you'll see Caroline and Klaus individually, the slow burn won't start until chapter 4. Just trust me and enjoy the ride - good things come to those who wait.<br/>2. As mentioned, this is a slow burn. Probably over 100k of it or MORE. So, if you don't like that sort of thing, or lack the patience needed to enjoy it, this probably isn't for you.<br/>3. I feel robbed by the fact TVD and TO never gave us much werewolf action, mostly just focusing on the vampires (which, fair, it is called The Vampire Diaries I suppose). So expect bad ass werewolf transformations, werewolf culture and wolf magic - that's right, I may be including a twist on the mate trope.</p><p>I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I love writing it! And a HUGE THANKS to BelleMorte180 for not only listening to me rant about my plans for this fic, but also creating the amazing cover art below!! 😍😍 Send her love by reading her amazing fics</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>
  <em>The Black Forest, Germany, 1234</em>
</p><p>The rain pelted down around them as they ran, the wind wavering their balance upon the water-logged earth despite their supernatural strength and speed. All the while, canine teeth snapped at their heels.</p><p>“KOL!” Klaus yelled in warning, too late. He skidded through the mud to an abrupt halt, watching in horror as the wolves pounced and brought his brother to the ground. He moved to help, but a wolf attacked him at the same moment, slamming him to the muddy leaf-ridden earth. Its teeth snapped at his neck, slick with werewolf venom, and Klaus barely held it back, too focused on trying to see Kol.</p><p>His brother had managed to throw one of the wolves attacking him off, kicking another so hard it was thrown into the trunk of a tree not far away, bones breaking on impact. But they were outnumbered. An entire pack had hunted them down, caught their scent and chased them from their most recent home, causing Kol and Klaus to be separated from Elijah and their sister. Kol couldn’t fight them all. One wolf proved that, coming up from behind and sinking its teeth in Kol’s neck as he tried to fight off a wolf that had him pinned to the ground. His scream tore through the forest, echoing far and wide, and suddenly, all Klaus felt was untamed, feral <em>fury</em>.</p><p>Snarling, black veins erupting along his face and his eyes bleeding red, Klaus pulled the wolf on top of him closer, sinking his teeth into its neck. The wolf whined, trying to get away, but Klaus held firm as his teeth tore through fur and skin, blood flowing down his throat. With a roar, he threw the wolf off him and leapt to his feet, moving too quick to follow by the naked eye. The wolves surrounding his brother turned as he charged at them, teeth bared and muzzles slick with blood, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. But Klaus’ eyes glowed too this time – he no longer was the powerless boy he used to be all those years ago. This time, he could tear a wolf a part with his bare hands. So he did.</p><p>He took pleasure in the way they yelped and whimpered as he tore them apart. One had the audacity to leap on him from behind, successfully sinking its teeth into his neck before he had the chance to throw it off. He grabbed that wolf around its stomach, crushing its ribs and insides as he tightened his hold. He left it in a whining mess, crumpled on the floor.</p><p>The wolves either dead or scattered, Klaus flashed to his brother’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his face in his hands. Kol was covered in bite marks, tunic in shreds and stained with his own blood. Klaus swallowed. Kol wouldn’t die from the bite – they’d learnt that much when Elijah had been bitten a few decades ago – but Kol was weakened now. Vulnerable. If they didn’t get out of here, Kol was in trouble.</p><p>“N-N-ik.” Kol gasped, coughing up blood. The wound on his neck was bleeding too heavily for Klaus, and for a second, panic overwhelmed him, the image reminding him of a different brother torn apart by wolves.</p><p>Kol was not dying. He <em>wasn’t.</em></p><p>“I’ve got you, brother. I’ve got you.” Klaus wrapped his arms under his brother’s legs and neck as he spoke, lifting him off the ground. “You’re going to be fine.”</p><p>“N-Nev-er knew y-you cared-d, Nik.” Kol managed to stutter, the teasing note in his voice still there.</p><p>“Don’t get used to it.” Klaus grumbled, too worried about his brother to gather a glare dangerous enough to shut Kol up.</p><p>Suddenly, a howl pierced the silence. Klaus turned with Kol in his arms towards the sound, eyes wide with fear. Kol’s eyelids fluttered, drowsily following Klaus’ sightline. He had lost too much blood.</p><p>“Sorry N-Nik, but I off-ficially hate your f-furry-faced cousi-in-ns.”</p><p>Klaus glared down at his brother as he turned back around, starting to move at a hurried pace. “They’re not my cousins, Kol.” He snarled.</p><p>Kol rolled his eyes. “Could have f-fooled me, snarly face.”</p><p>“Call me that again, and I’ll reconsider why I didn’t leave you daggered with Finn.” Klaus ground out. Kol didn’t answer. Frowning, Klaus looked down at his brother. “Kol?” His brother’s eyes were shut, his breathing worryingly slow. “Kol!” Klaus shouted, shaking his brother slightly. Kol didn’t wake up, his head hanging limply.</p><p>Another howl pierced the forest, causing Klaus to curse. The rest of the wolf pack were gaining on them. They needed to leave, <em>now.</em></p><p>Shifting Kol’s weight, Klaus held him tighter, using his vampiric speed to flash through the trees. But this wasn’t his territory. Klaus did not know the land, did not know which direction he should run. He could only rely on the full moon and the stars to guide him, every tree identical to the one before. And worst of all, both he and Kol were bleeding, and although Klaus had healed, their scent still drifted through the air, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for the wolves to follow.</p><p>A wolf burst through the trees, and Klaus barely skidded out of the way of its venomous teeth, abruptly turning in the other direction. He could hear them behind him now, snapping at his heels as their paws slammed against the earth with each stride. Despite his supernatural speed as a vampire, the wolves were faster. Nature always found a balance after all, and something had to be high enough on the food chain to kill a vampire.</p><p>Damn Elijah for convincing him they could live in peace with the wolves. That as long as they didn’t provoke them, they were no threat. Damn himself for listening, a slither of what was left of his heart hoping he could learn from the wolves, find perhaps what was robbed from him centuries ago. And damn the wolves for turning him away.</p><p>Klaus pushed himself to run faster. He had to get ahead, find a suitable place to make a stand. He couldn’t run from the wolves forever, and although he hoped he was at least drawing them away from Elijah and Rebekah, the problem still remained that they were chasing <em>him</em>. He had to deal with them. Once and for all.</p><p>Klaus drew to a stop in a slight clearing within the trees, a rocky outcrop positioned in the centre. Carefully, he rested Kol against it, noticing how his brother’s eyes fluttered slightly, his skin a furnace to touch. Kol wouldn’t be helping him. Perhaps if he’d been bitten once, he’d be more lucid, capable to fight although weakened, but multiple bites meant his blood was heavily dosed with the venom, acting faster than Klaus had ever seen it.</p><p>The wolf pack arrived with ferocious snarls, slowing as they approached Klaus, surrounding him on all sides. Klaus rose to his feet, turning his back to Kol. With the rocky outcrop behind them, he wouldn’t have to worry about an attack from behind. However, that also meant he was boxed in, with no clear escape in sight.</p><p>The wolves prowled forward, teeth snapping towards Klaus as they snarled. The Original growled, letting his monster rise to the surface. Black veins and red eyes challenged the wolves to make the first move as Klaus bared his vampiric teeth, protectively standing between them and Kol. Klaus knew he couldn’t be killed but that didn’t change the fact the wolves would happily eat them alive, given they got the chance. He wouldn’t let that happen, not as long as he could still fight. Klaus stepped forward, snarling ferociously at the wolves gathered around him.</p><p>He expected them to flinch. Expected them to show a degree of caution in the presence of such a dangerous predator. He did <em>not</em> expect them to whine like kicked puppies, their growls cutting off abruptly as they staggered backwards, ears flattened back against their heads in fear. Confusion fluttered across Klaus’ features, his monster receding slightly. And that was when he noticed the great shadow that stretched across the earth in front of him, too thick to be a tree.</p><p>A growl that rumbled like thunder, deep and guttural, came from behind Klaus. The Original froze. He had always relied on his instincts, his superior senses and the flow of his own body. Now, his heart was thumping a rhythm that echoed loudly in his own ears, primal instincts on edge. The hairs on the back of the neck; the prickling of the thumbs; that creeping horrible dread that something was <em>wrong, wrong, wrong.</em></p><p>Not even realising he was holding his breath; Klaus slowly turned his head. There, stood atop of the rocky outcrop he had leaned Kol against, was the largest black wolf Klaus had ever seen, eyes glowing like hellfire in the darkness and pouring rain. Its attention was focused on the wolves, lips curled back as it flashed its deadly set of canine teeth, power radiating off every inch of its body. And then it looked at Klaus, yellow eyes locking with his.</p><p>Klaus’ eyes widened in recognition, staggering back slightly in shock as he turned fully around. The Black Wolf’s eyes flickered back to the wolves behind him, and with a mighty bend of its back legs, the wolf leapt over Klaus and <em>pounced</em>. The pack of wolves scattered as their alpha was taken down, the sharp teeth tearing into his neck landing a fatal blow. Two wolves leapt onto the Black Wolf, snapping at his neck and clawing his sides, drawing deep gashes across the pitch-black fur coat. Klaus watched, frozen, as the Black Wolf snarled, spinning his body as he rolled, jaw clamping on one wolf’s neck, throwing it through the sky like a ragdoll as he slammed the other into the rocky outcrop, crushing the smaller wolf between his body and the stone. A female wolf, seeing a direct attack was failing, changed direction and headed straight for Klaus, coming from behind him. Klaus barely sensed her in time, turning around with no choice left but brace for impact, but the Black Wolf was faster, and he had leapt onto the female wolf before Klaus could so much as blink, crashing to the ground with her beneath his paws. Predictably, she didn’t last long either.</p><p>Where once the forest had been filled with the sound of howls and animalistic growls, now all Klaus could hear was whimpers and pained cries. The wolves were running away in every direction, terrified, as the Black Wolf tore apart any that go too close. Blood sprayed across the ground, mixing with the rain and mud in a churning mess. Before long, Klaus was the only one left standing.</p><p>He could only watch, paralysed, as the Black Wolf - his back to Klaus - grabbed the last wolf by the tail with his teeth and dragged it towards him so he could sink his teeth into its neck, snapping it with a sickening crunch. The wolf’s struggles ceased suddenly, its whine cutting off, and Klaus watched as the limp body fell to the ground.</p><p>He stumbled backwards, heart beating erratically. Every rational thought was telling Klaus that what he was witnessing was some kind of trick, a phantom. Because it was impossible. His blood father was dead, murdered by Mikael in his rage and jealously, not long after Klaus’ werewolf side was bound. Slaughtered with the rest of his pack in such a terrible act that the land would be forever tainted by the tragedy. It had been centuries since then, so even if his father had survived, Klaus knew there was no possible chance that he could be alive.</p><p>But his eyes did not lie.</p><p>Hearing Klaus stumble, the Black Wolf raised his head, his ears twitching towards his son. He turned slowly, one paw after the other, and suddenly Klaus wasn’t staring at the back of the Black Wolf’s head, but into his bright yellow eyes.</p><p>“Father…” Klaus breathed, barely believing the words he had spoken.</p><p>For a creature so adept at killing, the Black Wolf’s eyes looked remarkably soft as he walked forward, stopping not far away from Klaus. A low, almost gentle, rumble of sound came from the Wolf’s throat as his head lowered slightly to the Original’s level. It was then that Klaus was reminded that he could no longer understand the wolves, no longer hear him. Not since his werewolf side had been bound. Even so, he knew exactly what his father would say - remembered hearing his voice like it was yesterday.</p><p>
  <em>Hello, little wolf.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nobody cares about you anymore, boy!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>~Centuries later~</em>
</p><p>Something was going on.</p><p>Caroline didn’t know what plan her friends had concocted this time, but just the weird greeting she got from Elena and Matt when they arrived alerted her that something was up. Not to mention Rebekah was supposed to be Matt’s date but was now suspiciously MIA – and it was suspicious dammit because the Original Blonde Bitch wouldn’t shut up about the Homecoming dance the last time Caroline had seen her at Cheerleading practice. Add that to the fact that Elena and Matt were not surprised at all that Klaus had arrived, essentially crashing the party, made Caroline hyper aware they were hiding something from her.</p><p>She tried to ignore it. She would not let it ruin tonight - not on her watch. This was their senior year – their final year – and the last chance to make memories, the one opportunity to experience High School with the people she grew up with. Yes, she was a vampire now, and a seventeen-year-old vampire at that, one that could go back to high school whenever she wanted. But never again with Elena and Bonnie. So she was going to enjoy their Homecoming, regardless of the fact that the dance she had meticulously planned had been cancelled due to a flooded gym (she was not going to consider Tyler had deliberately sabotaged it for Klaus, she was not) and her friends were lying to her face. Caroline Forbes was not so easily defeated, thank you very much. She was Miss Mystic Falls, and if she could pull off a fake smile for a bunch of old, stuffy council members then she could pull one off in front of her classmates. All she had to do was conjure that radiant cheer she was known for and enjoy the brilliant party that her Klaus-sired boyfriend had planned behind her back. No big deal.</p><p>At. All.</p><p>None whatsoever.</p><p>She was fine.</p><p>Caroline watched as a jock brushed passed her - Tyler’s teammate Jace, if she recalled correctly – her eyes following the carotid artery in his neck that jumped with each loud heartbeat.</p><p>Ok, maybe she wasn’t fine.</p><p>Her teeth clenched, gums aching as her fangs tried to erupt, but she pushed the urge down, turning her head away. Which was when she spotted Tyler talking to Klaus, because of course he was with psychotic-killer-Klaus and not his girlfriend, who might she add, had to answer the fourth question about whether she had turned up to the dance alone.</p><p>The plastic cup in her hand shrieked as she crushed it within her shaking fist. Releasing a cry of frustration, she walked back into the mansion, nearly knocking Elena over when she pushed her way through the crowd. Oops.</p><p>God, now she was turning into the Original Bitch. What was wrong with her? There was probably a perfectly good reason why they were lying to her, alright? Maybe they were just trying to protect her by keeping her in the dark. That was plausible. If she didn’t know anything, Klaus certainly couldn’t retaliate against her for whatever stupid move they were going to make.</p><p>Who was she kidding? Klaus would probably set the whole town on fire just because Damon pissed him off. If her friends were planning something stupid and failed, she was doomed by association.</p><p>She was definitely going to need something stronger than spiked punch. Or beer, for that matter. Where was the Salvatore wine cellar when you needed it? Though, Tyler did tell her once that Carol always kept a bottle of vodka in her desk… Which shocked her at the time, because prim and proper Carol Lockwood? Vodka drinker? Caroline hadn’t seen that woman drink anything but high-priced champagne her entire life.</p><p>After an awkward moment where she had to ask a grinding couple to move off the door, Caroline managed to slip into Carol’s office, raiding the drawers and finding the infamous vodka bottle. She pilfered a crystal tumbler too, unscrewing the bottle and pouring herself a glass as she walked back to the party. Carol Lockwood could miss her alcohol. Call it pay back for shooting her full of vervain.</p><p>Placing the bottle down on the windowsill, Caroline observed the party unfold as she took her first sip from her glass. The band was still playing outside, the pounding music vibrating through the air even inside the house. Her classmates had already set up tables of beer pong and other drinking games, laughter ringing through the throngs of people. From the scent wafting in from the drawing room, Caroline was pretty sure the stoners had made themselves at home as well, everyone seeming to know where they belonged.</p><p>Except her.</p><p>She turned her gaze from the sight, placing her glass on the side only to replace it with the bottle, swallowing down a huge mouthful despite the way it burned down her throat, making her wince. Caroline looked out the window, hoping the Lockwood landscaping would offer respite from this terrible disaster of a dance. Instead, she froze.</p><p>It was hard to see because of the darkness, but there was definitely something – something big – standing out there. It stood between a pair of tall sculptured trees, and Caroline would have brushed it away as simply a creepy shadow, if it wasn’t for the yellow eyes that stared out into the night.</p><p>A werewolf.</p><p>From the angle it stood at, she knew it was watching the party happening out back. Listening. Ears twitching. <em>Waiting.</em></p><p>Even from a distance, it looked tall enough to bring a horse down with ease, larger than any werewolf she had seen. Tyler’s wolf form had to be less than half its size. And how the hell was it transformed in the first place? It wasn’t a full moon.</p><p>Shit. Maybe it was a hybrid. A hybrid sired to Klaus. She had to warn Elena, if they were planning something and that thing was on Klaus’ side-</p><p>Caroline knocked her glass off the side, cursing as it fell and shattered into a million pieces. A drunken senior jeered at her from across the room, making a joke about her clumsiness that sent his friends into a hysterical fit of laughter. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she moved to bend down and clean up the mess, halting halfway as she remembered the werewolf standing outside. She jerked to her feet, eyes finding the trees where it stood.</p><p>It was staring at her.</p><p>Caroline gasped, terrified eyes wide as she backed away from the window, those yellow eyes boring into her. Her heels slipped on the spilt alcohol and broken glass, entering a moment of panic as she fell backwards before strong arms caught her.</p><p>“Woah, Caroline!”</p><p>“Tyler?” She turned around in his grip, meeting her boyfriend’s concerned gaze.</p><p>“Are you alright?” He asked, before his lips curled up into a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve turned into a lightweight.”</p><p>For the first time in what felt like forever, Caroline couldn’t offer a response. She spun round in Tyler’s embrace, eyes searching for the wolf, moving towards the window to get a better look. It was gone. Almost as if it had never been there at all.</p><p>“Caroline?” Tyler called softly, his tone even more worried now due to her unnatural silence. She turned her gaze back to him, noticing how his grin had fallen. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I-I… I thought I saw a werewolf.” Caroline stuttered, releasing a deep breath. “Like a werewolf off freaking Twilight, Tyler - it was huge!” She felt stupid as soon as she opened her mouth. It was dark out - it probably had been a creepy shadow that her tipsy mind had twisted for her. She had to be imagining things. But from the way Tyler’s brow furrowed, his teeth clenching as his head spun to follow where she had been looking, perhaps her fear wasn’t unfounded. “Tyler?”</p><p>“Do you think it was a hybrid?”</p><p>She laughed, and even to her own ears it sounded hysterical. “Tyler, I was probably just seeing things, it was stupid, I should have never said anything-”</p><p>“Caroline.” He urged, making her jump as he gripped her arms so tightly she was feared it would bruise. That was when she recognised the look in his eyes – fear.</p><p>“I-I… maybe, yes.” She frowned slightly, backing away when he loosened his grip. “Tyler… what’s going on?”</p><p>He glanced nervously around them. “I need to talk to you. Come on.” Grabbing her wrist, he began to lead her out of the room. Caroline managed one last glance out of the window where the Black Wolf had stood, before Tyler pulled her away.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_______________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div>Klaus rolled the small white ball in his hand, an air of disinterest about him. Centuries he had spent roaming the earth, experiencing every wonder, every phenomenon the world had to offer, meeting geniuses and artists that were now immortalised in the history books. Klaus Mikaelson had witnessed empires rise and fall, watched cities burn to the ground, stood by as atrocities shattered civilisations. And somehow, he had ended up here.<p>Playing beer pong at a party.</p><p>A <em>high school</em> party.</p><p>At least he didn’t have to listen to Elijah’s passive-aggressive comments on the situation, him being in a box and all. Klaus could just imagine his brother’s utter distaste towards such uncivilised behaviour, teenagers drunk off their heads left and right. Not to mention that the whole thing had been Klaus’ idea, though perhaps Elijah would admire his cunning on that front – the whole party was orchestrated perfectly so he was at an advantage, hybrids hidden amongst the crowds, ready to act as soon as he gave the word. He wasn’t stupid after all. He could sense a trap – over a thousand years of looking over your shoulder tended to give you a sixth sense for such things.</p><p>Despite his confidence that he could not be out-matched, unease still clawed at his insides. He hadn’t heard from his sister in hours, and her absence unnerved him. The rest of his family remained in their coffins. Not including his hybrids, he was alone.</p><p>Klaus glanced out a nearby window, eyes raking across the dark treeline, hoping to see something, anything. Even a bloody shadow. He could feel the weight of his phone in his suit pocket, a heavy reminder of the call that went unanswered hours earlier. He had been left with no choice but to leave a voicemail, hoping it was heard in time. Now he realised it didn’t matter if it had been heard or not – it didn’t guarantee he would come. Not after their last conversation.</p><p>
  <em>“Do you have any idea of the severity of your actions?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear as he poured himself a drink, completely nonchalant to the disapproving tone directed at him. “I’m trying to create more people like me. Create a pack. Shouldn’t you be proud?” He suggested.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not when you’re tearing your way through the coast, leaving a trail of carnage and bloodied bodies behind you. Werewolf bodies, Niklaus.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus glared at the wall in front of him, letting the bottle drop to the table. “Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well then, I guess I should inform you that if you continue to make such sacrifices, I will not be able to stand by your side.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The hybrid rolled his eyes, picking up the glass and lifting it to his lips. “You can’t be seri-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, make no mistake, Nikalus, I am serious. If you weren’t my blood I would have already neutralised you.” Klaus listened as the person on the other end paused, clearly frustrated. “Alphas across the continent want your head.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus clenched his teeth. “They can’t kill me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps so. But they can kill me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I won’t let them.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s not good enough.” A fierce snarl travelled through the speaker. “Stop slaughtering werewolves, Niklaus. I mean it.”</em>
</p><p>Klaus turned his gaze back to the game, trying his best not to crush the small ball in his palm. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mindy walking towards him, stopping by his side.</p><p>“You have a visitor.” She informed him.</p><p>Klaus’ lips twisted, not sparing her a glance. “Well, tell my visitor I’m on the brink of victory here.”</p><p>“He said his name is Mikael.”</p><p>With one name, Klaus felt his insides freeze.</p><p>It took a few seconds for him to assemble his armour, hardening his expression so no emotion broke through the cracks. He could do nothing about how his shoulders had tensed upon hearing the name – his hybrids would just have to be trusted with witnessing that reaction. He threw the small ball, watching as it bounced and landed inside one of the plastic red cups, using the time to take a deep breath. And stall for time. Stalling was good. Anything but facing the man he once called father.</p><p>Revealing nothing, Klaus turned to face the pretty young hybrid. “Then we mustn’t keep him waiting.” He declared, forcing a small – if totally fake – smile. “Move everybody out back. I’m going to have a little chat with my Dad.”</p><p>The hybrids did as they were told, many guests releasing over dramatic protests as they were ushered outside. Klaus ignored the ruckus, instead deciding it was time to leave. “Tony, you know what to do.” He muttered to one hybrid as he strode out the room. He didn’t wait to receive an answer.</p><p> Klaus slowed his steps as he rounded the corner, arriving in the foyer. And there he was, standing outside the threshold, front door wide open. The man he had once called father, the man who had hunted down like a dog for centuries.</p><p>Mikael.</p><p>“Hello Niklaus.”</p><p>Discreetly as he could, Klaus swallowed, stepping forward. For a moment, he clenched his fist, trying to dissipate the internal fear that was rising in his chest, developed from years of being weaker, vulnerable - beaten and bruised by the man who now stood feet away. That same fear turned him bitter and cruel, his features twisting into some resemblance of a smile.</p><p>“Hello, Mikael. Won’t you come in?” He asked innocently. Klaus grinned fiercely, faking recognition. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot – you can’t.”</p><p>Predictably, the hate in Mikael’s eyes sharpened, hissing his words out because he was gritting his teeth so hard. “Or you can come outside if you want.”</p><p>“Or I can watch my hybrids tear you limb from limb.” Klaus countered. Outside, Tony led his hybrids onto the lawn, blocking Mikael’s exit. The man didn’t even turn around to face the threat.</p><p>“They can’t kill me.”</p><p>“True. But it’ll make one hell of a party game.” Klaus stated casually. He raised his hand, two fingers touching. “All I have to do is rub these two fingers together, and they’ll pounce.”</p><p>Mikael’s expression revealed nothing, the two standing off and not breaking eye contact. Every moment of silence and inaction unnerved Niklaus. Mikael wasn’t quiet. He raged and roared, his fury as loud as a turbulent storm, and just as destructive.</p><p>Finally, Mikael chuckled. Somehow, that made Klaus nearly flinch far harder than any yell of anger ever would.</p><p>“The Big Bad Wolf. You haven’t changed. Still hiding behind your playthings like a coward.” He spat. “You only forget they may be sired by you but they’re still part vampire. And they can be compelled by me.”</p><p>Klaus felt his stomach twist as Mindy moved to Mikael’s side, whatever confidence he had managed to scrape together wavering. Then the doppelgänger was dragged forward, her eyes panicked, and Klaus felt his last slither of control plummet into the abyss.</p><p>“Come out and face me, Niklaus, or she dies.” Mikael threatened.</p><p>A spark of anger flooded Klaus upon seeing Mikael so confident, so pleased. This was a game to him. He was enjoying watching him squirm. And in that moment, Klaus hated him more than he ever had, more than he cared about anything.</p><p>So he bluffed, the only act of defiance he had left.</p><p>“Go ahead. Kill her.”</p><p>“No, Klaus. He’ll do it.” The girl pleaded.</p><p>Klaus let his eyes flick to the doppelgänger’s face for a second, not intending to linger, but his sharp eyesight caught movement far behind her. On the lawn, one of his hybrids was turning around, their gaze fixed on something between the trees. Klaus followed their eye line, watching as a dark shadow amongst the green foliage <em>moved</em>. Branches snapped, leaves rustled. Klaus felt his heart skip a beat, hope soaring in his chest.</p><p>“If she dies, this lot will be the last of your abominations.” Mikael remarked, voice cold yet confident, sensing weakness.</p><p>It was Mikael’s first mistake.</p><p>Klaus returned his gaze back to Mikael. “I don’t need them. I just need to be rid of you.” He ground out, ignoring the sight of the hybrid inching closer to the trees out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>“To what end, Niklaus? So you can live forever with no one at your side?” Mikael taunted. “Nobody cares about you anymore, boy!”</p><p>As he spoke, Mikael did not look like a monster. His vampire nature remained absent - his eyes did not bleed red, nor did black veins crawl across his skin like sprawled spider’s legs. But cruelty twisted his features and chipped away the surface, letting outsiders glimpse the monster hidden behind the righteous visage. The man who claimed to protect the world from great evil, but truly was the evil all along.</p><p>“Who do you have, other than those whose loyalty you’ve forced? No one.” Mikael sneered, his words hitting Klaus like physical blows, more painful than any time the man had raised a hand to him. And Mikael knew it. He leaned forward, his eyes flashing with vicious delight. “No. One.”</p><p>Tears gathered in his eyes, and before Klaus could hold them back, they were falling down his cheeks. Because Mikael was right.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t listen to the liar, little wolf.</em>
</p><p>Almost right. Mistake number two.</p><p>Klaus clenched his jaw, rage engulfing the hurt. His eyes bled to yellow, the wolf running free. “Not quite.” He snarled.</p><p>A scream tore through the silence, causing every supernatural to spin in the direction of the sound. The hybrid was scrambling backwards, away from the trees, falling onto his back as terror seized his limbs. His mouth opened - perhaps to scream again or warn his brethren - but he never got the chance.</p><p>The Black Wolf pounced, yellow eyes blazing, his teeth and claws tearing into the hybrid with ferocious efficiency. The other hybrids scattered, some screaming in grief as they were forced to watch as their friend’s blood was spilled, his head torn from his body in one single bite. As it rolled, the wolf grabbed the body by the leg, flinging it through air with a powerful twist of its body.</p><p>Mikael stood frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. The Black Wolf turned to face him, baring his teeth in a feral snarl as his ears lowered against his head, yellow eyes locking with Mikael’s gaze. </p><p>“You.” The original whispered, barely audible. The Black Wolf snapped his teeth in response, his growl rumbling like thunder. </p><p><em>Yes, me,</em> he seemed to taunt. <em>What are you going to do about it?</em></p><p>Mikael’s features hardened to stone, throwing the doppelgänger to the side and disregarding his plan with the Salvatores in the process, forgetting Klaus altogether. Now the monster revealed itself, driven mad by rage, his eyes bleeding red and skin blackening as if diseased. Sharp canines grew and lengthened, lips curling over teeth that could tear through flesh like scissors through paper.</p><p>“I will take pleasure in finally destroying you, beast.” Mikael declared, descending down the house’s steps. The Black Wolf raised his hackles even further, fur standing on end, as if electrified. His growl was terrifying, piercing your very soul.</p><p>But that didn’t stop Mikael. It never had.</p><p>With a roar, Mikael flashed forward just as the Black Wolf pounced, the two crashing together in a dangerous clash of teeth and claws, brutal strength and wild power. They twisted and spun, a deadly dance of violence and bloodlust.  Only Klaus knew the true significance of what he was witnessing. Of watching a fight that had been recorded on stone walls long before it was written in ink. The Destroyer against The Protector. Vampire against Werewolf. Original against an Alpha of Alphas. </p><p>A fight fit for the gods.</p><p>Mikael fell onto his back, the Black Wolf’s sheer size making him outmatched. His hands instantly came to defend himself, the wolf on top of him, snapping at his neck. With a mad burst of power Mikael tightened his grip on the wolf’s head and slammed it into the earth, intending to get out from under him. But the Black Wolf recovered quickly, returning twice as pissed, and as Mikael twisted his body, trying to roll out from under him, the Black Wolf sunk his teeth into the Original Vampire’s torso, dragging him back. Mikael tried to plunge his hand into the wolf’s chest, aiming for the heart, but the Black Wolf grabbed the vampire’s arm with teeth sharper than knives and <em>yanked</em>. Suddenly, Mikael was screaming as his bones snapped, the Black Wolf using the distraction to lunge and sink his teeth into the vampire’s neck.</p><p>Klaus watched, too stunned to move, forgetting the doppelgänger, even the hybrids. And he paid dearly for it.</p><p>In a second, Damon Salvatore had flashed up behind him, twisting his shoulder around and plunging a white oak stake into his stomach. The scorching pain that burned through his body was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and just like Mikael, Klaus screamed.</p><p>The Black Wolf whipped his head up at the sound, releasing his hold on Mikael’s neck. Human-like fear and concern flashed across his wolfish features, giving Mikael the opening he needed.</p><p>The Original snarled, eyes blood red, plunging his teeth into the Black Wolf’s neck as retribution, gauging on the blood supply and tearing the neck savagely, causing the wolf to yelp. He pushed his feet against the wolf’s underbelly and kicked, sending the Black Wolf flying. The werewolf hit the fountain in the center of the drive, smashing into the stone and obliterating it into pieces, falling to the ground with a pained whimper. Mikael flashed to his feet, staggering slightly as the werewolf venom hit his system, but otherwise undeterred. He reset the bone in his arm with barely a flinch as he strode forward, while the Black Wolf struggled to rise, ribs broken from the fall, his healing working more slowly than the superior immortality of a vampire.</p><p>Meanwhile, Klaus was similarly sensing defeat. Damon had him pinned to the floor, the white oak stake seconds away from piercing his heart. And worse of all, he could see Mikael prowling towards his blood father over Damon’s shoulder, a murderous glint in his eyes.</p><p>“Your kind always were the weaker opponent in this little blood feud, Lycaon. It’s pathetic you haven’t learnt that.” Mikael spat, grinning madly as he approached the fallen werewolf.</p><p>Lycaon growled as he approached, moving to bite, but this time Mikael was quicker, kicking the wolf in the snout and grabbing his head once more, pinning him to the ground. Lycaon fought, claws scrambling for purchase, but he was injured and Mikael was stronger.</p><p>“I will enjoy destroying you.” Mikael ground out, inches away from Lycaon’s ears, staring into those bold yellow eyes. He raised his hand, poised to rip out the werewolf’s heart.</p><p>Klaus felt his eyes widen at the sight, a terrified panic flooding his soul. At the same moment, Stefan tackled Damon to the ground, throwing him off Klaus and finally freeing the hybrid. In the chaos, the white oak stake was knocked out of Damon’s hand and skidded across the marble floor. </p><p>Klaus didn’t even hesitate.</p><p>In a second, he had grabbed the stake and flashed out of the house, towards Mikael. His so called father barely twisted around to face him before Klaus thrust the stake into his heart.</p><p>Klaus staggered back in horror as Mikael screamed, magical flames leaping to life and burning the Original vampire alive. He watched as the body dropped, nothing left but a smouldering carcass.</p><p>Dead.</p><p>Mikael was dead.</p><p>The sheer relief hit him like a tidal wave, washing over him in such an overwhelming magnitude that he felt his eyes water once more. Releasing a shaky breath, he turned his gaze from the body, meeting his blood father’s lupine eyes. The father he had always wanted. The father he had just nearly lost.</p><p>“...I-I kill-...He was g-going to-” Klaus swallowed. “He’s dead. He’s dead.” He repeated, voice weak. His voice was never weak.</p><p>Maybe if he kept saying it he would believe it?</p><p>Achingly slow, the Black Wolf rose to his feet, favouring one side. It seemed he had hurt his leg, as well as his ribs in the fall. The wolf’s head also hung low, movements sluggish as he neared Klaus, limping. Faintly, Klaus realised he was shaking just as much from shock as his father was shaking from pain.</p><p>Lycaon didn’t say anything. Despite their minds being once more connected ever since he broke the curse, Klaus never heard a word. The wolf had spoken to refute Mikael’s words minutes earlier, but not now. He didn’t need to say anything. Locking his gaze with his father, Klaus already knew.</p><p>It was over.</p><p>The Black Wolf lowered his head, pushing his forehead gently against his son’s. Klaus closed his eyes, hiding the way they cycled from blue to yellow and back, hands rising to fist in Lycaon’s fur, an echo of what he did as a little boy. But the fur didn’t feel like it was supposed to, soaked as it was.</p><p>Klaus pulled away, staring at the liquid that stained his hands red. Black veins threatened to erupt across his cheeks, but he controlled it, a thousand years of practice teaching him well.</p><p>“You're hurt.” He stated, obviously.</p><p>His father didn’t dain the statement with an answer, just staring. Never speaking.</p><p>“I can heal it. Let me clean up this mess and after you’ve transformed I can give you my blood.” Klaus declared, moving to deal with the Salvatores.</p><p>
  <em>Niklaus.</em>
</p><p>Klaus froze, turning back. Finally, the silence was broken but worryingly, it didn’t bode well. His father’s eyes were sad, if strangely firm.</p><p>
  <em>You know I can’t stay.</em>
</p><p>The wolf’s eyes flicked over Klaus’ shoulder, making him turn around to follow his gaze. At a safe distance, his hybrids surrounded them, watching with uneasy looks on their faces. And then Klaus understood.</p><p>
  <em>“if you continue to make such sacrifices, I will not be able to stand by your side.”</em>
</p><p>He wasn’t alone. Not forever.</p><p>But he was today.</p><p>Klaus clenched his hands into fists, anger flooding through his veins just as quickly as it washed away. He was tired, he realised. Tired of hoping only for that same hope to be ripped away.</p><p>“You should leave.”</p><p>
  <em>Little wolf-</em>
</p><p>“Just-” Klaus began, his voice a hiss. Then the tension in his shoulders deflated, the fight leaving him. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Go.”</p><p>He felt his father’s wolfish gaze staring him down, but Klaus refused to look at him. </p><p>Silently, the Black Wolf turned and limped away, the wound in his neck bleeding badly. The wolf’s back turned, Klaus couldn’t stop himself from watching as Lycaon disappeared from his life for a second time.</p><p>This time though, he only had himself to blame.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hello, Nik</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys! This chapter is basically 8,000 words of foreshadowing and set up for the chapters that follow. Hopefully, you'll get your first glimpse of Klaroline in the next chapter. This story is using canon as the backbone of the structure, so from where we're at now in the series, I'm sure you can figure out what Klaroline scene will soon be upon us. Though, just to remind you, this is a slow burn. And when I say slow - it's freaking slow. But don't worry, you'll have plenty of Klaroline scenes, new and old, to sink your teeth into until Klaroline becomes endgame.</p><p>Huge thanks to BelleMorte for helping me plot out the outline and structure for this fic!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>1992, Minnosota, Superior National Forest<br/>
Home of the North East Atlantic Pack </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As the hours waned into the early evening, locals flowed into Jimmy's Bar, the centre of a town hidden from human eyes by powerful magical wards. A jovial atmosphere rose as patrons settled into their seats and ordered their usual drinks, laughing with friends and family alike. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A lone individual stepped through the door, scanning the expanse of leather settees and couches filled with pack members, the warm glow of hanging pendant lights illuminating their faces. Slowly, he made his way over to the bar, ignoring the way the chatter died as smiles slid off faces, backs straightening with tension, the patrons highly aware of the stranger in their midst. In the sudden silence, his footsteps echoed loudly on the polished wood flooring, over a dozen eyes following his every movement.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus smiled as he stopped and leant against the bar, quite obviously catching the female bartender’s eye. “Bourbon, neat, please love.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The woman didn’t move, her stocky character and weathered features making Klaus acutely aware that she wasn’t one easily cowed. She exchanged a glance with a middle-aged man sitting at the bar a few stools away from Klaus, clearly unsure on how to react. The vampire’s grin widened. “I promise I don’t bite.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Narrowing her eyes, the woman walked over to Klaus and poured his drink, the bar eerily silent. The large man sitting at the bar turned in his seat, eyes on Klaus, clearly cautious about turning his back on the vampire. At the other end of the room, a group of young men stood frozen around the pool table, their game paused. One, clad in a red plaid shirt and jeans, finished his turn, the sound of pool balls clashing together as his cue hit true the only thing breaking the silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks, love.” Klaus brought the glass to his lips, sipping the aged spirit. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the young man at the pool table straighten, handing his cue over to a friend before heading towards Klaus. Pretending not to notice, he let his eyes flick across the hangings on the wall behind the bar. There was a black symbol painted into the panelling - three crescent moons positioned back to back to create almost a triangle, backed on a circle - and old photographs. Some were even pre-1900s and immediately caught his eye, Klaus recognising one individual captured in the photographs more than once. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Established in 1864.” Klaus read aloud, focused on a photograph showing the bar’s opening day, the familiar figure standing in the centre. “Quite the achievement that, to be open that long.” He toasted to the bartender.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s also none of your business.” The young man declared, finally arriving at the bar and leaning forward into Klaus’ space, cutting his sightline of the photograph off. Before Klaus could stop him, he had taken the glass out of his hand and slid it across the bar, another brawny male catching it and drinking the contents. The young man smiled, all teeth. “Mind telling me how you got so lost, my friend?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus leant backwards only to knock into another man standing behind him. He was surrounded. Wonderful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus raised an eyebrow. “Friends, already? I wasn’t aware we’d even met.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man’s eyes flashed yellow, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t play games with us, vampire. I could smell your stench the minute you walked through the door. Now tell us how you’re here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I was invited.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The werewolf laughed. “You expect us to believe that? A daywalker invited into the wolf’s den?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus smiled, his lips stretched so tight it was almost painful. “I’m looking for Lycaon. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The grin slid off the werewolf's face, his gaze glacial. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe try somewhere else.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You sure?” Klaus asked as he stood up, the men following him. He shook his head, feigning disbelief. “Because I swear that I saw him in those pictures on the wall.” He pointed to said pictures, which only seemed to raise the hackles on the pack members even more. With good reason too, since the pictures were over a hundred years old.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like I said,” the young man ground out, standing so close to Klaus they were nose to nose, “doesn’t ring a bell. You should leave.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked down, chuckling softly. When he raised his head, his expression had hardened, his eyes bleeding red. “I don’t think so.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For a second, time seemed to hold its breath. Then the pack member behind Klaus lunged, wrapping his arms around the vampire’s neck, intending to snap it. At the same time, the other man in front of him moved to strike, but Klaus was quicker, and jumped, raising his feet to kick the werewolf back. The force of the kick sent Klaus and the werewolf holding him tumbling backwards, falling right onto an occupied table. The wood splintered and collapsed under their weight, glasses smashing as patrons abandoned their drinks and leaped out of the way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Chaos ensued - pack members all across the bar rose to their feet, some moving to enter the fray, the bartender even ducking under the bar to grab the concealed shotgun. Klaus drove his elbows into the werewolf under him, breaking ribs with the force of his vampiric strength, before rolling to grab a piece of splintered wood, driving it through the werewolf’s shoulder and the floor beneath him, effectively pinning him to the ground. He screamed as Klaus flashed to his feet, barely having time to brace despite his supernatural speed as two more werewolves tackled him, all three of them slamming into the floor in a mess of sprawled limbs and powerful fists. It surprised Klaus, how strong they were - a match for any hundred-year-old or so vampire. Werewolves were only that strong, if not stronger depending on the bloodline, during a full moon in their wolf forms. The shock knocked him off guard long enough for the werewolves to get a few critical punches in, whipping his head to the side and breaking his lip in the process. Rage engulfed his features as he turned his head back to glare at his opponents, his lip healing just as his fangs dropped. And then he pounced.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He grabbed one by the hair, pulling him forwards so he could sink his teeth into his neck. When the other tried to shake him off, he flashed to his feet, throwing both werewolves through the air and crashing into tables and chairs. The werewolf Klaus had kicked to the floor earlier came up behind him, snapping a pool cue on his knee and thrusting it into Klaus’ back. The Original vampire roared in pain, the splintered, bloodied end of the cue sticking out of his chest. Snarling, Klaus yanked it out, turning around to face the horrified werewolf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m curious, after killing me, what do you intend to do next?” Klaus taunted.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eyes flashed yellow in anger. Klaus hissed in response, his fangs sharp. With a battle cry, the two rushed forward to tear each other apart-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A shot rang through the bar, hitting the floor between the werewolf and vampire, making them flinch apart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ENOUGH!” A voice roared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus froze, slowly turning around.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stood next to the bar, the bartender’s shotgun in hand, was Lycaon. His blond hair was cut short, curling slightly like Klaus’ own, eyes positively enraged at the scene he had seemingly stumbled upon, possibly alerted by the sheer noise the fight had caused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sir, he’s a vampir-” The young werewolf Klaus had been fighting tried to explain, before abruptly being cut off.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know perfectly well what he is, Deacon.” The Alpha werewolf ground out, gaze fixed dangerously on his son as he handed the shotgun back to the bartender.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus straightened his back, swallowing nervously like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Father.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon narrowed his furious eyes, lips pulled into a thin line. “Niklaus.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, he was so screwed.</em></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________</em>
  </p>
</div><em>Lycaon slammed the truck door as he got out, leaving Klaus behind in the passenger seat. Glaring at the dashboard, Klaus waited a moment before following, stepping out the blue pickup truck and taking in his surroundings. They’d arrived at Lycaon’s home - a modern cabin on the outskirts of town, obscured from the main road by thick forest. The building was an elegant construction of panelled wood and glass, old stonework supporting the main frame of the house. It was too sleek in design for Klaus’ tastes, but it was nevertheless an impressive sight to behold in the dying dusk light.</em><p>
  <em>Klaus had only visited once before, - back in the 1940s, before the cabin was built, back when Rebecca and Elijah’s absence began to gnaw at his insides. Loneliness was a cruel housemate, and no matter how much blood he consumed or how many women he charmed to his bed, it couldn’t drown out the choking sense of solitude. For centuries, Klaus had kept in contact with Lycaon, and he knew the Alpha werewolf had finally formed a new pack during the 1800s from the remnants of what was left of their pack’s descendants. His father also had a tendency to take in strays, earning a name for himself as a guardian who answered any werewolf’s distressed howl, adding further numbers to an ever growing pack. Klaus hadn’t visited during that period due to finding a home in New Orleans, but after that was lost, and then being left with no choice but to dagger Rebekah during the 1920s, he hadn’t lasted two decades before he showed up at his father’s door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He hadn’t stayed long. He never did, when he visited. Although he was thankful that his blood father still lived - even more so that he didn’t shun him for being a vampire - Lycaon was still a painful reminder of everything Klaus had lost all those centuries ago. The binding of his werewolf side meant he couldn’t hear the wolves speak, which made every full moon more dangerous, as younger wolves didn’t recognise him as one of them. Klaus knew his father tried to include him in the pack, he did, but no matter how hard Lycaon tried, Klaus was different. He was a vampire, not a wolf, and nothing would change that. Not until he broke the curse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And therefore, whatever home his father built, Klaus could never stay because to him, it wasn’t home. Not for a vampire. The incident at the bar hours earlier was proof of that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The headlights flashed as Lycaon locked the vehicle, catching Klaus’ attention and breaking him out of his thoughts. His father moved to grab the paper grocery bags they had picked up on the way over, before striding up the drive without sparing Klaus a glance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you going to continue this silent treatment all night?” Klaus shouted after him as he moved to follow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon didn't turn around. “If you hate silence so much, Niklaus, perhaps you shouldn’t have started a fight with my wolves.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Technically, your wolves started the fight.” Klaus pointed out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon stopped outside the front door and turned his head to send his son an unimpressed glare. Klaus looked away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll shut up.” He muttered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You do that.” Lycaon agreed, quickly opening the front door as he balanced both grocery bags on one arm. Running a hand through his hair, Klaus sighed, before following his father inside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The interior was spacious and open, just as sleekly designed as the outside. To the left, a grand kitchen made of marble and metal appliances stretched out, black cabinets lining the walls. To the right and beyond was a vast living space, with fur blankets and patterned rugs cloaking the room in a comfortable atmosphere as a fire glowed slightly on one side, a warm light compared to the natural daylight that would normally cascade into the room from the towering windows. Lycaon walked straight to the kitchen when he entered, depositing the grocery bags on the island counter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’d offer you a drink, but I’m afraid I’m out of blood bags. If you had told me you were coming I would have sent someone into the closest town to get some.” Lycaon explained as he opened cabinets, pulling out a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s fine. I already ate.” Klaus assured distractedly, taking in the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows, the forest stretching out to the mountains from the backyard - which housed a decently sized heated pool.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You didn’t eat one of my wolves, I hope.” Lycaon chastised, pausing as he opened the wine bottle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not all of them.” Klaus confirmed, falling back onto the beige sofas.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon glared at the back of his head from the kitchen. “That’s not funny.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It is a little.” Klaus argued, twisting his neck and sending Lycaon a cheeky grin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon shook his head. “Not that I don’t enjoy your little visits over the decades, little wolf, but why exactly are you here?” Lycaon asked, walking over with the drinks, handing one to Klaus as he sat down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t I just visit my father out of the good of my heart?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon raised an eyebrow, leaning back into the couch as he took a sip of his wine. “Everything you do is an ulterior motive wrapped in another ulterior motive. And I’m quite sure you’ve never acted on the good of your heart. Ever.” Lycaon observed. “Now, spill.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked down at the wine glass, fingers dancing across the glass. “Elijah is looking for me. He wants me dead.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon sighed. “I wonder why.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus glared at him. “I needed to lay low for a while. Thought this was as good a place as any.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You better not bring Elijah right to us, Niklaus.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t blame me - Elijah is the one hunting me down like a dog! His own brother!” Klaus raged, leaping to his feet. Lycaon stayed where he was, raising an eyebrow in disapproval from his position on the couch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps because you told him you dumped your siblings at the bottom of the Atlantic - a complete lie - and proceeded to threaten to do the same to him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, well, he was being difficult.” Klaus muttered, falling back onto the sofa behind him, arms crossed and expression pulled into a childish pout.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Elijah is the difficult one?” Lycaon exclaimed, astounded by Klaus’ sheer audacity. His son glared at him in response.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suddenly, the front door swung open, young laughter ringing through the house. Klaus turned his head around at the same time Lycaon rose to his feet, placing his drink on the side table. A dark-haired boy, around the age of eight, was at the door, half inside half out, talking animatedly with a ginger girl.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That was so awesome! You have to teach me!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know! We’ll have to practice tomorrow! You’re coming right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam!” Lycaon shouted, catching the boy’s attention. Beside him, Klaus mouthed the name ‘Sam’ in astonishment, clearly perplexed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry, gotta go!” The boy quickly apologised, moving to grab the door as Lycaon approached. Behind him, Klaus slowly rose to his feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“See you tomorrow Sammy!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bye Jackie!” Sam hastily closed the door, running straight for the stairs in a useless effort to avoid Lycaon, and it was only then that Klaus realised the boy was barefoot, small feet caked in dirt and grime from running outside with no shoes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whoa, not so fast, Sam.” Lycaon grabbed the boy by the wrist before he could disappear. “What have I told you about running outside barefoot?” He asked, squatting down to the boy’s height.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young boy winced, avoiding Lycaon’s eyes, clearly caught out. “To not do it?” He asked, smiling nervously.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s right. So why are you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I forgot.” Sam whined.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Again?” Lycaon proded.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jackie wouldn’t wait! It’s not my fault!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon sighed, patience thinning. “Sam…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked on in realisation, observing the way Lycaon absent-mindedly rubbed the boy’s arms with his thumbs, eyes soft and caring. Lycaon had always looked at him that way, when he was young. His appearance may have been more on the wolfish side, but it was still the same look, still the same gentleness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somehow, Lycaon had found another son to raise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus swallowed, looking away, trying to ignore the way his throat hurt from where a ball had materialised inside it, heart twisting. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly, the rage quickly drowning out the pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Who’s that?” The little boy asked, leaning around Lycaon to look at Klaus.  Lycaon turned, catching Klaus’ closed expression, before sighing once more and rising to his feet.</em></p><p><em>“Samuel, this is Niklaus.” He introduced, moving to the side so the boy could see Klaus properly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam scrunched up his face, as if something bad was under his nose. “He smells funny.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus narrowed his eyes. “Charming little fellow, aren’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Niklaus.” Lycaon warned. “Be nice.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about him?” Klaus countered, miffed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon sighed, turning back to face the little boy below him. “Sam, Niklaus is a vampire. I’ve told you about them, remember?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young boy frowned, eyeing Klaus warily. “You said they were dangerous.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Alpha let his lips twitch into a small smile. “Not all of them. Niklaus won’t hurt you.” He reassured, sending a glance Klaus’ way in warning. His son didn’t look pleased at the implied order.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sam tilted his head, bright green eyes narrowed in suspicion, as if trying to suss Klaus out. “Are you sure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Positive.” Lycaon stated firmly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy’s eyes flicked once once more to Klaus, before the wariness in his eyes dissipated. Moving around Lycaon, Sam bravely stepped toward the vampire, holding out his hand. Klaus just stared at it, blinking uncomprehendingly, making Sam frown. “You’re supposed to shake it.” He declared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m aware.” Klaus snapped. “We’ve already been introduced. There’s no need.” He explained, tone condescending.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A spark of anger ignited in the boy’s eyes. “Not properly. You have to do it properly.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Behind Sam, Lycaon was standing with a hand over his mouth, eyes bright with mirth, clearly trying not to laugh. Klaus sent his father a glare over the boy’s head, before reaching out and shaking the offered hand, which was dwarfed in his larger palm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m Samuel. But you can call me Sam.” The boy greeted enthusiastically.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Niklaus.” Klaus introduced, eyes narrowed in distrust.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jackie’s brother is called Nicolas. But everyone calls him Nick. Do people call you Nik too?” Sam asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Only my siblings.” Klaus answered, his tone carrying warning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The little boy’s face fell, disappointed. Klaus would have sighed in relief at dodging the bullet, but then Lycaon opened his big mouth and ruined everything, the traitor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Niklaus is my son, Sam. So, technically, you’re his sibling too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy lit up with energetic eagerness. “Really, so I can call you Nik!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What, no that’s not-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s nice to meet you Nik!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My name’s not Ni-”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve never met a vampire before. Do you really feed on people’s blood? And what do you look like when your fangs drop? I bet it’s so cool!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked down at Sam in quickly mounting horror as the boy practically jumped up and down on the spot with excitement, with no fear of the thousand-year-old vampire currently standing in front of him. Klaus was so overwhelmed with shock all he could do was gape as the boy rattled on, speaking a mile a minute.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Barely holding back laughter with his fist jammed in his face to hide it, Lycaon took pity on him and pulled Sam away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, time to go clean your feet in the bathtub upstairs, before you overwhelm him with questions, you rascal.” Lycaon quickly herded the little boy to the stairs and ruffled his hair, causing Sam to giggle in response, escaping Lycaon’s hold and running up the steps. His gleeful laughter and small footsteps echoed throughout the house in the silence that followed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You did that on purpose.” Klaus accused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon chuckled, moving to the kitchen and unpacking the groceries. “I’ll have to make him dinner now he’s back. Do you want anything specific?” Lycaon directed at Klaus, neither denying or agreeing with him. It might have well have been a signed confession of guilt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Saying nothing, Klaus shook his head, his eyes fixed on his father the entire time. Lycaon raised an eyebrow, picking up a knife from the rack and grabbing a chopping board, clearly intending to cut up the vegetables. Klaus walked over, leaning onto the island counter in between him and his father.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon raised an eyebrow, brandishing the knife and using it to point at Klaus. “Stop looking at me like that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like what?” His son asked innocently, though somehow managing to sound anything but innocent.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like you’ve discovered a unicorn or something equally impossible.” Lycaon answered, keeping his eyes on the vegetables as he began to chop.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are raising a child.” Klaus stated, slowly iterating each word, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Opposed to you raising a child, a feat many would never dare to conceive yet still, it actually happened.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I didn’t already have a son.” Klaus muttered bitterly, forcing himself to not think of Marcellus, lost the same day he lost New Orleans.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father sighed, dropping the knife and letting it clang against the marble counter loudly. He braced both hands on the countertop, tension lining his body. “I know what you’re thinking, Niklaus. Stop it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As if a flip had been switched, all pleasantries evaporated from Klaus’ face, leaving it dark and twisted. “Oh really? And what pray tell, am I thinking?” He sneered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re thinking about the best way to get rid of that kid that ensures I don’t get mad at you.” Lycaon pointed out, jabbing his finger at the ceiling for emphasis, causing Klaus’s jaw to clench angrily, avoiding his father’s gaze. Lycaon narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re mad at me for pointing that out and are contemplating the pros and cons of snapping that child’s neck just to spite me.” He concluded, earning an icy glare from his son. “But all that is irrelevant, because the true problem is you’re thinking that little boy up there is your replacement.” He finished, voice softer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus’ voice was small when he finally spoke. “Is he?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You really think I could ever replace you?” Lycaon questioned, eyes sad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus scoffed, hiding his obvious hurt with anger. “You seem to be doing pretty well without me, from what I’ve seen.” He muttered, taking a swig of his drink.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Niklaus. Look at me.” Lycaon demanded, expression hardening. Klaus refused, defiantly staring down at a random spot on the counter. “Look. At. Me.” Slowly, Klaus raised his gaze, hesitant. “You’re my little wolf. Always will be. I’d sacrifice this whole pack just so I wouldn’t lose you again. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for eternity.” Lycaon declared, sincere, a warm smile curling the corners of his lips.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a moment, Klaus nervously returned it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A silence, one born of understanding and comfort this time, enveloped the two as Lycaon returned to chopping up the vegetables, setting them aside. Klaus leaned forward on the island, watching his father work. Lycaon sent him a look.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, are you going to help or not? Don’t just stand there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus rolled his eyes. “I’ve killed people for talking to me like that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father laughed. Laughed. Right in his face. “I’d like to see you try, little wolf.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus scoffed, but did as he was told, helping Lycaon prepare the meal for three. When the the contents finally disappeared into the oven, Klaus asked the question that he couldn’t quite shake from his mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sam could sense what I was. How?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon sighed, drying his hands on the kitchen towel. “Your scent is very potent.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“To triggered wolves.” Klaus corrected. “He shouldn’t be able to…” Klaus trailed off, realisation dawning. “He’s triggered the wolf? But he’s… he’s just a child.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father winced. “Not exactly.” Klaus gave him a look that urged him to explain. Lycaon drew a hand across his face, rubbing his forehead where a headache was forming. “About a year ago, I was contacted by a pack in South Dakota. Three of their children had gone missing. Taken.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“By what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Witches.” Lycaon answered. “Specifically, witches practicing Expression.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Recognising the magical term, Lycaon watched as his son put the information together. “They were sacrificing children?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s a lot of power found in those born of innocence, you know that.” Lycaon explained as he leant back against the counter, keeping the oven in his sights. “They’d taken human children too, from all over the state. The problem was, they covered their tracks too well - the pack couldn’t find their children even when they turned on the full moon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus frowned. “So they asked you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon nodded. “I managed to predict when the witches would commit the sacrifice - the blood moon was due to reach its apex in a couple of days. By the time I got there, I was too late, the werewolf children were already dead. But there was one boy alive - a human boy.” His father’s eyes dropped, voice growing quiet. “He was dying. Hurt. We wouldn’t get to a hospital in time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus straightened, realisation hitting him. “On a blood moon, a man bitten is a man cursed.” He recited. His gaze locked with Lycaon’s. “You bit him?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon, eyes downcast, nodded. “My bite can create werewolves on a blood moon, I’ve told you that before. The bite doesn’t always take, it’s always a gamble but Sam was strong, I could tell. A fighter. Like you.” Klaus avoided his father’s gaze, not being able to deal with the fondness in it. “His wounds healed within hours. By the next day he was awake. And by the time the full moon came around, the wolf was free.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus shook his head in disbelief, brows furrowed. “I’ve never seen one turned so young. How did he even survive the transformation? How old was he for that matter?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Seven. Like I said, the boy’s a fighter. By the time he’s grown, I suspect his control over the wolf will be far greater than many of the elders.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about his family? You said the children were taken.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He was.” Lycaon confirmed. “From a foster home.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes widened, shoulders slumping. “He’s an orphan.” Klaus realised.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Abandoned, actually. I don’t know for sure, but his parents might be alive somewhere.” Lycaon pointed out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not for long.” Klaus promised, expression dark.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon grinned, slapping his son on the back as he left the kitchen. “See. He grows on you.”</em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_____________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div>The responding ding of a doorbell echoed throughout the mansion, causing Klaus to flinch slightly at the sound, nearly messing up the landscape he had been painting for the last two hours. So far, his day hadn’t gone well at all, what with Stefan declaring he’d stolen his siblings’ coffins. The rowdy ratchet from all the construction work occurring on the grounds to make the building hospitable had soured his mood further, not even some of his favourite music loud enough to drown it out. Grumbling, Klaus wet his paintbrush, assuming either the hybrids or the men working on renovating the house would answer the door.<p>They didn’t.</p><p>Klaus cursed as his paintbrush jumped with his hand as the doorbell rang again, cutting through his concentration and thoroughly ruining his work. His face a fierce picture of promise for violence, Klaus snarled, hurling the easel and painting halfway across the room, utterly destroying it. In a flash, he was downstairs, livid with rage.</p><p>“I swear, Stefan, if you are behind this door I will rip your heart-” Klaus swung the door open, freezing instantly.</p><p>A young man near Klaus’ age when he was turned stood on the steps, dark auburn and brown hair hanging slightly over his shocked green eyes. A waft of wolf drifted past Klaus’ nose.</p><p>“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that welcome.” He muttered.</p><p>Klaus gaped, eyes wide. “Sam?”</p><p>Sam smiled. “Hello, Nik.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div>Caroline stumbled as she made her way up the apartment block stairs, rifling through her handbag for her phone. As soon as she found it, she checked her messages, hoping to see new notifications. Her face fell slightly at seeing none. Tyler still hadn’t contacted her.<p>Steps turning more forceful, Caroline shoved the phone back in her bag as she entered the corridor, nearing Alaric’s apartment. Throwing on a smile, she raised a hand and knocked on the door as soon as she arrived before it. Within seconds, it had swung open, Damon appearing in the threshold.</p><p>The smile slid off her face.</p><p>“Blondie.” Damon greeted. Caroline scowled.</p><p>“Damon.” She returned cheerily after a moment, her smile clearly fake.</p><p>“Caroline!” Elena exclaimed, pushing Damon aside and tackling her with a hug. “Bonnie, Caroline’s here!” She shouted over her shoulder, before turning back to Caroline. “You got my text?”</p><p>“Yeah, sounded urgent so I came as soon as I could. Why are we meeting here?” She asked as she followed Elena into the apartment, Damon shutting the door behind them. Alaric and Bonnie were standing over the table in the centre of the flat, what looked like photographs spread out all over the surface.</p><p>“Alaric has all the photographs we took from the Lockwood caves, along with all the files we’ve gathered on the originals. It was easier to meet here.” Bonnie explained, moving to the side so Caroline could stand beside her..</p><p>“What are you looking for?” She asked, moving closer, fingers brushing across the photographs spread out over the table. Centuries old cave drawings stared up at her; post it notes scattered over every other photo that had been translated. The images for werewolf and hybrid stared up at her, along with one that still hadn’t been identified. It looked remarkably similar to the werewolf symbol, but the circle that represented the moon was painted in red, not white, and the teeth were twice the size.</p><p>“Information on who the hell gate-crashed the party last night.” Damon declared, leaning against a bookcase not far behind her.</p><p>Caroline frowned, confused, glancing at Elena and Bonnie, before turning her gaze back to Damon. “I don’t follow.”</p><p>“Big Bad Black Wolfie? Ten foot tall? Totally thrashed Papa Mikaelson?” Damon prompted, only to receive a blank expression from Caroline. Beside him, Alaric sighed in exasperation, while Bonnie rolled her eyes at Damon’s choice of descriptors. “Seriously, Barbie, what have you been doing?”</p><p>“I was sleeping off the fact that my boyfriend injected me with vervaine.” She deadpanned, glaring at the older vampire.</p><p>“Tyler knocked you out?” Elena exclaimed, concerned.</p><p>“Yes! Because he didn’t want me there while you all tried to kill Klaus, <em>again</em>. And behind my back, may I add!” She screeched, making Elena look guilty. “Tyler even had the audacity to ask Matt to take me home. All I know about last night is what you’ve shared with me in a text!”</p><p>“Has Tyler said anything about what happened?” Bonnie asked.</p><p>“No idea, since we’re not exactly speaking at the moment.”Caroline muttered bitterly, folding her arms across her chest.</p><p>“Because he knocked you out to protect you?” Elena questioned, her tone implying she thought Caroline may be overreacting. Caroline sent her a glare.</p><p>“No, Elena. Because he cares more about Klaus than me due his freaky sire bond with him. Urgh! You know what, forget it. I don’t want to hear his name for at least another day.” The others exchanged glances. Caroline narrowed her eyes. “What?”</p><p>“Well, we kind of called you because we thought you could contact Tyler and ask him about the wolf.” Bonnie cautiously revealed.</p><p>“Seriously?” Caroline whined.</p><p>“If he’s a hybrid then, great, another enemy to deal with. But if he isn’t, then Damon seems to think he might be something more dangerous. Something older.” Elena elaborated.</p><p>“Like the Big Bad Wolf that ate little Red Riding Hood.” Damon interjected, grinning. Elena glared at him, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“We thought Tyler might know of some werewolf legends. Many vampires have heard of the originals that way, it could be the same for werewolves.” Alaric explained, ignoring Damon and Elena’s interaction.</p><p>Suddenly, Caroline was surrounded by several identical stares, imploring for her aid. Releasing a huff of frustration, she gave in. “Urgh, fine! I’ll call him. But I guarantee he won’t tell me anything because of his utter devotion to that psycho.” </p><p>“Thank you, Caroline.” Elena gushed, smiling with gratitude at the blonde vampire.</p><p>“You so owe me for this.” Caroline declared, dialing and bringing the phone to her ear. She turned around, walking a few steps away in an attempt at privacy - which was built on totally false pretenses, as Damon could listen in on her conversation even if she was outside the apartment. </p><p>As the phone rang on the other end, Caroline bit her lip, worried. Would he even answer? They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and somehow she had been turned into the bad guy, even though he was the one sired to Klaus.</p><p>Finally, the phone was picked up, and a male voice travelled through the line from the other end. “What?”</p><p>“Tyler?” Caroline breathed, hesitant, not quite believing that he was there.</p><p>“Yes, what do you want, Caroline?” She heard him snap, tone hostile.</p><p>Caroline immediately felt her mood sour, anger sparking up inside her. “You know, you don’t have to be rude.”</p><p>She listened as Tyler released a growl of frustration. “Caroline, I really don’t have time for this-”</p><p>Panicking, Caroline rushed to make sure he didn’t hang up. Why did she always say the wrong thing? “No, wait! I’m sorry. I’m sorry about last night and then for being snappy just now.”</p><p>An uncomfortable silence followed, making Caroline shuffle restlessly where she stood. She heard a sigh from the other end. “Caroline, what do you need?”</p><p>Caroline glanced back behind her, catching Elena’s eye as the others huddled over photographs and grimoires, searching for an answer. Her friend inclined her head in encouragement. “Damon seems to think the Black Wolf from last night is a threat. Elena wanted me to ask if you knew anything about it.” She paused, expecting Tyler to answer her implied question. He didn’t. “Do you? When I saw… whatever I saw last night made you worried.”</p><p>“I thought you were describing a hybrid. Klaus had told me he’d brought in dozens of hybrids for the party, remember? They were never going to win.”</p><p>Caroline clenched her jaw upon hearing the obvious jab at the argument they had had last night. And the worst part was she couldn’t even deny he was right, as her friends wouldn’t have won against Klaus and, being stubborn as she was, she would never have left, regardless of the danger. <em>Priorities.</em> She needed to think about her priorities.</p><p>
  <em>Let it slide, Caroline.</em>
</p><p>Caroline took a deep breath. “And now?”</p><p>Tyler didn’t answer.</p><p>“Tyler?” She prompted.</p><p>“I don’t know. None of us do. If it is a hybrid, no one’s owning up to being it.”</p><p>“Klaus hasn’t told you?” She asked, frowning.</p><p>Tyler hesitated on the other end. “... He didn’t exactly react well the last time someone asked.”</p><p>“React how?”</p><p>“He was pissed. Totally destroyed one of the rooms. The men had to start renovating it all over again. He’s forbidden us to ask, some are too scared to.”</p><p>“Scared, really? I wonder why.” Caroline drawled, sarcasm lacing her tone heavily. Even though she couldn’t see him, she felt Tyler practically bristle on the other end of the phone.</p><p>“Anything else you need, Caroline?” He ground out.</p><p>“Sorry, just…” She apologised again, biting her lip.</p><p>“Just what?”</p><p>Caroline closed her eyes, as if in physical pain. In reality, her heart was twisting upon knowing they had come to this. She tried to remind herself he was hurt, just as much as she was. “You’re sure there’s nothing else?”</p><p>Tyler seemed to realise the same thing as her, sighing once more, his voice much softer. Maybe there was still hope?</p><p>“You didn’t hear it from me, but some of the hybrids, the ones from established werewolf packs? They’re talking about the Black Wolf.”</p><p>“What are they saying?” She asked, receiving no immediate response. Behind her, Damon and the others looked up, watching her and listening for Tyler’s response. “Tyler?”</p><p>“He’s a myth, Caroline.”</p><p>“And?” She prompted.</p><p>“He’s immortal. Older than even Klaus, the wolf that started the blood feud between vampires and werewolves.” Tyler explained, causing Caroline’s expression to scrunch up in obvious confusion.</p><p>“But that doesn’t make any sense, Mikael started the feud. And werewolves aren’t immortal.” She reminded him. </p><p>Tyler’s tone was unquestionable. “According to the legends, this one is.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div>Klaus watched as Sam sat down, the young werewolf kicking his feet up onto the table and leaning back into the sofa. The furniture was still covered in the plastic film it had arrived in, which made Sam eye it in disdain, but otherwise settled. Klaus strode over to the side table as he carefully eyed every movement Sam made, silently taking in how much the other man had changed. Klaus hadn’t seen him in years, he was probably what? 26? 27, now? It only reminded the hybrid of the fragility of mortality, of how fast time passed. A blink of an eye for an immortal like him. It was the reason he stopped visiting in the first place.<p>“Drink?” He offered, picking up the crystal bottle of bourbon and pouring two drinks, already knowing Sam’s answer.</p><p>“Yes, thanks Nik.” The werewolf took the glass when Klaus passed it to him, taking a sip as the hybrid sat down opposite.</p><p>“How long has it been since we saw each other?” Klaus asked.</p><p>Sam chuckled. “Damn, a few years? Wasn’t I still in college?”</p><p>“Ah, yes, college.” Klaus mused. “Frat parties and shared one-room flats, where poverty and drunken disorderly are celebrated. The den of rebellion and sin.” Klaus toasted, clearly faking admiration.</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes. “Just because you’ve lived long enough to compel yourself a place in the likes of Cambridge and that art place through the centuries doesn’t mean you get to look down on me, you know.”</p><p>“That art place was the Royal College of Art.” Klaus corrected, clearly offended.</p><p>“Well obviously it failed to teach you much, despite its prestige.” Sam teased, sporting a shit-eating grin. Klaus glared daggers at him.</p><p>“Remind me why I invited you inside?”</p><p>“Because I’m practically family?” Sam tried.</p><p>Klaus grunted in response. “Clearly, you’re delusional.” He said, raising his glass to his lips.</p><p>“Clearly, you’re in denial.” Sam countered, still grinning.</p><p>“Why are you here, Sam?” Klaus asked, quickly changing the subject. “If you’re looking for Lycaon, you missed him by several hours.”</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come to see Dad. I came to see you.”</p><p>Klaus frowned, suspicious. “Why?”</p><p>“Do I really need a reason to see my big brother?”</p><p>“Yes, you do.” Klaus argued, gesturing with his glass at the young werewolf. “I taught you that.” </p><p>Sam opened his mouth, closed it, and finally nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair.”</p><p>“So, what exactly do you want?”</p><p>Sam eyed him. “The honest answer?”</p><p>“Preferably, yes.” Klaus glared, bringing his glass to his lips.</p><p>Sam hesitated, clearly nervous. Nevertheless, his voice didn’t waver, conveying a confidence not many could conjure in Klaus’ presence. “I want you to turn me.”</p><p>Klaus choked on his drink. Spluttering, his shocked eyes met Sam’s. “What?!”</p><p>Sam swallowed. “You're creating hybrids. I want in.”</p><p>Klaus eyed the werewolf warily. “Does Lycaon know you’re here?”</p><p>“Why is that relevant?” Sam exclaimed, but the hybrid made no sign he would budge. Sam huffed. “Not exactly.” He answered, looking anywhere but at Klaus.</p><p>Klaus raised an eyebrow.</p><p>Sam sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I may have lied a little. Told him I was collecting some rare supplies for the pack.”</p><p>“And that worked?”</p><p>Sam shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”</p><p>Klaus didn’t look convinced.</p><p>“Look, all you have to do is turn me, Nik. I’ll tell Dad about, you know… turning into a blood-sucking vampire.”</p><p>“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Klaus drawled, unconvinced.</p><p>“Well, yes! Frankly I don't understand why you’re so nervous. Normally you’d pounce on the opportunity to corrupt me.”</p><p>“Yes, well, this time a lot more is at stake Sam. For one, Lycaon will blame me for agreeing to turn you and for another, he’ll skin me alive for siring you to me.”</p><p>“Sire?” Sam echoed, confused.</p><p>A fierce grin broke out across Klaus’ face. “Quite fortunately for me, every hybrid I turn is sired to me. Creates quite the army.”</p><p>“An army of slaves.” Sam deadpanned.</p><p>“Which you just admitted wanting to be a part of.” Klaus countered.</p><p>Sam shook his head, rubbing his forehead where a headache was beginning to form - most definitely because of Klaus. “Why are all the hybrids sired to you in the first place?”</p><p>“They’re grateful for freeing them from turning on a full moon, freeing them from the pain.”</p><p>Sam looked up, letting his hand fall back to rest on his knee. “Nik, you’re an idiot.”</p><p>Klaus narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?!”</p><p>“I haven’t felt pain on a full moon since I was seventeen.” Sam reminded him, making Klaus’ eyes widen. The werewolf swept his arms out, daring Klaus to contradict him. “I’ve got nothing to be grateful for. Nik, I won’t be sired to you.”</p><p>Shocked with the realisation, Sam was greeted with the comical sight of Klaus' jaw hanging open, rendered speechless. </p><p>For Klaus, he began to wonder why he hadn't put it all together before. Sam hadn't been born a werewolf - he was <em>bitten</em>. Bitten by Lycaon, an alpha werewolf that had spent centuries refining his control over the wolf. His blood father had taught Sam everything he knew, and as a result (and the combined consequence of turning every full moon since he was a small boy) Sam's control over the wolf was unmatched except for Lycaon himself. Many of the wolves in Lycaon's pack turned without pain, but those were older wolves with decades of experience, the skill taking time to master. Sam was the first to achieve it so young.</p><p>Klaus closed his mouth, managing to gather himself. “I can see how that affects things.”</p><p>“Obviously.” Sam pointed out with a smirk.</p><p>“That still doesn’t answer the question why you want me to turn you though. Most werewolves would balk at the very thought.” Klaus pointed out, frowning.</p><p>The werewolf scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Because most of them are a bunch of prejudiced assholes.”</p><p>“Sam.” Klaus called, getting his attention. “Stop stalling.”</p><p>Sam fidgeted where he sat, restless.</p><p>“I fell in love with someone.” He blurted out. Instantly, Klaus' expression soured, making Sam rush to explain. “Keira. You remember her right? The vampire you introduced me to?”</p><p>Oh, Klaus remembered her. She wasn't exactly someone you forgot, not that it mattered. As soon as Sam mentioned the word <em>love</em>, Klaus had practically closed off all chance of trying to sympathise with the werewolf.</p><p>“Sam,-” He began to growl, but Sam's eyes sparked with rage, quickly speaking to cut the hybrid off.</p><p>“I swear, if you say love is a vampire’s greatest weakness I will punch you into next week.” Sam warned, holding up a hand. Klaus glared at him, but the werewolf remained unaffected. “You may not want to believe it, but it’s different for us wolves. We only ever truly fall in love once and she’s it for me. She’s my <em>mate</em>, Nik." Sam emphasised, expression passionate. Klaus shook his head, scoffing as he took a sip of his drink. <em>Mates.</em> What a ridiculous title, unique to werewolf culture. Why couldn't they just call their chosen halves wives or partners like normal people? It was the same thing.</p><p>Klaus thought back to the time he saw a mated couple back when he was staying with Lycaon. He remembered the way they looked at each other, like without the other the Sun would cease to rise, equals in all aspects of life; the way the male wolf never harmed his mate on a full moon, despite her being human. He'd torn mated werewolves apart over the centuries too - killed them just as mercilessly as he killed the lovers of vampires and humans, yet it was the grief of the werewolves that was too profound, too <em>raw</em> to be normal.</p><p>Deep down, beneath the denial, Klaus knew it wasn't the same.</p><p>Sam glared at Klaus' reaction, sensing his disbelief. "Laugh at me all you want but it's true." He snarled. "The problem is, she's a vampire and I'm a werewolf, a distinction, which unlike most would want to believe, is not an unholy match. Vampires and werewolves can live in harmony, if everyone would just get over their pointless bigotry." Sam snapped, clearly frustrated. A sigh escaped his lips as the fight in him deflated, Klaus watching him with impassive eyes, listening intently. "But the dilemma lies with her being immortal. I’d be happy to spend the rest of my mortal life with her - I'm hers forever. But she’d have to watch me age, grow old - even get sick. She’d have to watch me die.” Sam’s voice cracked, eyes wet. He turned away, voice smaller than Klaus had ever heard it. “I can’t do that to her. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did. I don’t want to hurt her Nik.”</p><p>“So you plan to die for her instead?” Klaus sneered.</p><p>Instantly, Sam’s expression closed off. “My loyalty and devotion doesn’t make me weak. And don’t pretend you’re not already considering agreeing to do it.”</p><p>“Oh, am I?”</p><p>“Yes.” Sam hissed. “If you turn me, you won’t have to watch me die either.”</p><p>Klaus’ smile fell, eyes cold. “That’s the thing, Sam. I never intended to watch.”</p><p>“Yeah, I worked that out on my own when you left.” Sam sneered, his eyes hard with anger. Klaus looked away, refusing to admit the feeling of guilt that festered inside his chest. Sam scoffed at his cowardice. “I know you and Dad are at odds because of your little blood trail you left across the coast, along with all the packs you attacked when looking for candidates for your precious hybrid army.” He declared. The air in the room began to build with hostile tension, Klaus' expression darkening. “Like him, I don’t agree with it, Nik. But I understand why you did it. Even after all these years you’re still looking for a family because you’re too afraid to face the one you’ve already got. Too afraid of being rejected, just like how Mikael and Esther threw you away.”</p><p>“What’s your point?” Klaus demanded, voice sharp. His eyes held dangerous warning, but Sam wasn’t intimidated, his voice remaining sincere and soft.</p><p>“You’re not alone, Nik. You never were. You just have to let us in.”</p><p>A silence settled, a raw expression crossing Klaus’ face. Like fragile glass cracking.</p><p>He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. “I’ll want something in return, for giving you my blood. And that of the doppleganger, since you won’t survive the transition without it.”</p><p>“Name your price.” Sam said, resigned, the emotional moment gone.</p><p>“I want you to swear allegiance to me.”</p><p>Immediately, Sam burst out laughing, loud and boisterous, causing Klaus to scowl. When Sam noticed, he stopped just as abruptly as he started. “Oh, you’re serious.”</p><p>“Deadly.” Klaus snarled.</p><p>“Right. There a reason why you don’t trust me to have your back?”</p><p>“You’re a part of Lycaon’s pack, not mine, Sam.” Klaus pointed out, glaring.</p><p>“And what, you think I’ll run back to him once I get what I wanted?” Klaus opened his mouth to reply, but Sam held up a hand, having second thoughts. “Don’t answer that. Course you would, you’re the definition of paranoid.” Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. “Not that I could return to pack after this anyway but fine, I’ll swear allegiance. As long as that isn’t a synonym for slavery. I’ll be your right hand, your comrade, your brother in arms - but I won’t be your punching bag, you got that?”</p><p>“I’d never hurt you, Samuel.” Klaus promised softly.</p><p>Sam narrowed his eyes. “Or Keira?”</p><p>Clearly disappointed, Klaus sighed. “Yes, fine, you have my word I will not harm a hair on your precious little vampire’s head. Happy?”</p><p>Sam smirked. “Oh, definitely. So you’ll turn me?”</p><p>The hybrid eyed him up and down. “You’re sure it’s what you want?” Klaus asked, tone turning serious.</p><p>Sam nodded, expression confident, even defiant, in the face of Klaus’ doubt. “More sure than anything in my life. She’s my whole world, Nik. And if I get to spend eternity by your side? I’m sure that won’t be that terrible either.”</p><p>Klaus scoffed. “My siblings would beg to differ.”</p><p>“Then they don’t deserve you.”</p><p>Klaus’ eyes shot to meet Sam’s, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Sam offered him a small smile.</p><p>Slowly, Klaus rose to his feet, walking over to where Sam sat. Their gazes locked, Klaus brought his wrist to his lips, his fangs dropping instantly, black veins spreading across his cheeks. He bit into his wrist quickly, grabbing a glass and holding it so the blood dropped down into it.  When the glass was stained red, enough blood for a mouthful, Klaus offered the glass to Sam so he could drink. The werewolf’s eyes flicked between Klaus’s face and the glass, wary. Klaus was nearly about to pull his hand away, the blood with it, believing Sam was having second thoughts, when the werewolf grabbed the glass and drowned the blood in one go, eyes flashing yellow for a split second.</p><p>Before long, Sam was wiping the side of his bloodied mouth with his sleeve, dropping the glass on the table. Klaus kneeled down, placing a reassuring hand on the werewolf’s shoulder.</p><p>“You won’t feel a thing until you wake up.” Klaus compelled, his pupils dilating.</p><p>Then he snapped Sam’s neck.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Happy Birthday, Caroline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally, the Klaroline arrives! This chapter is an absolute monster - nearly 10k - so prepare for the angst and like the 1200 words of crack that I just couldn't resist writing. Because let's face it, we need more behind the scenes content of Klaus finding the gifts he gives to Caroline.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caroline’s eyelids fluttered as she slowly rose to wakefulness, beams of golden daylight peaking through the cracks in the curtains and cascading down onto her hair. Pulling the warmth of her duvet closer, she rolled over and opened her eyes, focusing on the digital clock sitting innocently on her bedside table. The blue numbers glowed vibrantly in the dim light, displaying the time, 07:03, and more importantly, the date - October 10. </p><p>Her birthday.</p><p>She was supposed to be eighteen today. The biggest milestone, even more so than twenty-one, in her opinion. It was the age of adulthood, the age she would leave High School and move to college, finally leaving home - the end of an era. At eighteen, you could vote, get a tattoo, even enlist in the military, not that she would ever do that. She still couldn’t buy alcohol (the reason why twenty-one made it damn close as her favourite age) but that had never stopped her and her friends from getting drunk at not-so-legal parties before. And besides, if she wasn’t particular about following the law, she could always compel a bartender or shop clerk to ignore the pesky rule to ask for ID. Perks of being a vampire.</p><p>Caroline rolled on her back, sighing as she stared up at the ceiling. Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was a vampire now, eternally cursed - worse, stuck - as a seventeen year-old girl. What was good about being seventeen? Seventeen didn’t unlock anything new, didn’t promise any new freedom. It was a filler year, the age you turned so you could <em>get</em> to eighteen. She had died at seventeen, and now she would always be frozen at that age. No growing older, no more birthdays that actually meant something, just stuck in time, preserved like a freaking fossil. Another person would probably be thrilled that they would never have to experience finding their first grey hair, or stare at the wrinkly crows feet that stretched at the corners of their eyes, but for Caroline, that too was only a reminder that she would never be normal again, robbed of simple dreams like having a house with a white picket fence, beautiful children and a career she loved. What was the point, when you would never have any of that?</p><p>Today didn’t feel like her birthday. A part of her knew it wouldn’t, which was why she had ignored the approaching date the whole week, hoping that if she didn’t mention it everyone would just forget. Which was stupid, because she knew herself well enough that if her friends did forget she’d be hurt, painfully so, and it would only exaggerate the feeling that she was attending a funeral.</p><p>God, she wasn’t even <em>alive</em>.</p><p>Groaning in frustration, Caroline slammed her clenched fists into the bed, lurching to her feet and throwing the duvet away in a fit of anger. She knew she had to get up, because if she carried on with that line of thought, she wouldn’t leave her bed for days, too deep in her own self-loathing and misery to pull herself together.</p><p>Once showered and dressed, her bag slung over her shoulder, Caroline left her room and carefully made her way down the corridor, trying her best to stay as silent as possible. Her mom had come home late last night, exhausted from a night shift, and Caroline had no intention of waking her up just for a birthday that no longer meant anything. However, when she arrived outside her mother’s room, she realised the door was slightly ajar, light coming from inside as if the curtains had already been drawn. Then she heard the sniffling, like someone was crying.</p><p>Concerned, Caroline pushed the door open, stepping inside as the hinges squeaked loudly. Her mom was sitting on the edge of the bed, clearly awake, a wrapped box clutched tightly in her hands. Tears were falling silently down her mother’s aged cheeks, dropping down to the floor. When the door opened, she looked up, hastily wiping her eyes to dispose of the evidence.</p><p>“Caroline! I didn’t realise you were up.”</p><p>“I’ve got school, had to get up sometime.” Caroline offered a small smile, before her expression fell with worry. “Are you alright, mom?”</p><p>“I’m fine, I just-” Liz took a deep breath, halting that train of conversation. “Here, it’s your birthday present. Well, one of them. The rest are in the kitchen.” She said, holding the small box out for her daughter to take.</p><p>“Getting emotional over me growing up?” Caroline joked as she took the gift. Liz returned her smile, but Caroline could tell it was slightly forced, too tight around the edges. Without meaning to, her face fell slightly in response.</p><p>Tearing away the wrapping paper, Caroline opened the small box. Inside was an elegant necklace, one she had seen her mother wear on countless occasions. It was a simple, if delicate, silver chain with a small north star hanging from it, tiny crystals decorating the centre and shining in the light.</p><p>“It’s a family heirloom.” Her mother explained when Caroline said nothing. “My mother gave it to me when I turned eighteen, as her mother did before her. I believe it was your Great Grandfather’s wedding present.”</p><p>Caroline froze, realisation dawning. This was why her mother was crying, not because she was getting older, but because she <em>wasn’t</em>. Her mother had realised the same thing as her, that she would never age again, never have children. </p><p>Never pass on fleeting things like family heirlooms.</p><p>Caroline swallowed, forcing a smile onto her face while internally her heart split in two. “It’s beautiful, mom. Thank you.”</p><p>The drive to school was a very intense battle to stay positive and an even harder balancing act of distracting herself without thinking about subjects that would sour her mood further. The small assortment of other presents she received did little to lighten her attitude. It included a new phone from her Dad, which was quite the surprise, given the last time they saw each other he was determined to fix her, as if she could be <em>fixed</em>. As a result, the present only gifted her the feeling of being bought, almost bribed for forgiveness, just like when she turned nine, her Dad buying her everything she wanted that year to make up for leaving her and her mom. It hadn’t mattered in the end, how many presents she received. She never got what she truly wanted - her Dad back. </p><p>By the time she pulled up into the parking lot, she was fighting a losing battle to stay positive. Stefan was off the rails, threatening Klaus with the loss of his siblings - even Damon didn’t know how far he was willing to go. Jeremy was leaving Mystic Falls, compelled by Damon on Elena’s request (she wasn’t even going to get into the question of morality in that situation) and even after a lot of research, they were no closer to knowing what protected Klaus on Homecoming night. It made Stefan’s actions all the more dangerous, because as far as they were concerned, Klaus could have an ally that could kill them all if they pushed too far. Whatever the wolf was - werewolf or hybrid - it wasn’t bound by the moon, which meant they could be attacked at any time. If of course, it was on Klaus’ side.</p><p>And then there was Tyler.</p><p>Pushing down the handbrake and cutting the ignition, Caroline leant back against the driver’s seat, pointedly ignoring the outline of his form several meters away, standing beside one of the wooden lunch tables. Students were walking past around them, the grounds a rush of activity as classes started, but they parted around Tyler like the Red Sea, the two of them - him and her - both immovable objects, as if time was standing still.</p><p>Caroline closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Then she grabbed the door handle, opening the car door and stepping out, locking it behind her. Tyler rose to meet her, moving into her path, eradicating any hope that she could simply ignore he was there and continue to class.</p><p>She paused, meeting his eyes for the first time when he opened his mouth to speak. She cut him off before he could. “I can’t talk to you.” She stated, intending to move past him.</p><p>“I know you’re upset with me but I-”</p><p>“Upset?” She exclaimed, though her tone was tired. “You almost got Jeremy killed.”</p><p>Caroline remembered receiving Elena’s call that night, after everything had happened. She’d been shaken on the phone and Caroline could understand why she’d asked Damon to compel Jeremy, even if she didn’t agree with it. She’d never had any siblings, so couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to lose one, but it was even worse for Elena, as Jeremy was the only family she had left.</p><p>“And before you ask me to understand or to support you,” she continued, “can you at least tell me what you’re planning to do about your sire bond to Klaus?”</p><p>“There’s nothing I can do about it Caroline. That’s the point.” He answered honestly, frustrated, but not with her. He glanced away, ashamed. “I just wanted you to know that I understand why you can’t be with me. Even though I want to put you first, before anyone, I can’t. I’ll never be able to, and I’m sorry. I’m <em>so</em> sorry.” Tyler swallowed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I just wanted you to know that.”</p><p>Managing an understanding smile, too sad to truly convince anyone she was fine, Caroline responded in kind. “I’m sorry too.”</p><p>They stood there for a moment, both knowing this was the end, neither really wanting it to be. Then Tyler cleared his throat, breaking eye contact and reaching down into his bag, pulling out a small jewellery bag. </p><p>“Happy Birthday.” He congratulated quietly, placing the gift in her hand. She smiled in thanks, watching as he turned his back on her and walked away.</p><p>Her breath shook as she breathed in, holding back tears. She looked down, pulling out the charms bracelet from the small black bag. The metal chimed as the charms clinked together, her initials displayed in shining silver alongside a wolf and paw print. Her fingers tightened around the metal, bringing it closer.</p><p>Why, of all days, did it have to be her birthday?</p><p>Turning around, Caroline got back into her car, pulling out of the parking lot. She had no destination in mind, only to go anywhere but here. Anywhere where people wouldn’t congratulate her in the hallways, or sing happy birthday in the classrooms. Somewhere where she wouldn’t see Tyler, reminding her of yet another thing she had lost.</p><p>It was time to ditch School, stat.</p>
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</div>“Daniel, clear up this mess will you?” Klaus ordered, gesturing to the decapitated hybrid lying on the floor, blood pooling out across the foundations. Thank the Gods for the small mercy that the flooring hadn’t been fitted yet - he would have had to replace it if it had.<p>Daniel stared down at the body, eyes wide with horror. “Is...Is that Mindy?”</p><p>“Yes, unfortunately Stefan decided she would make good collateral damage.” Klaus ground out, leaving the room. At the last moment he spun back around, another order escaping his lips. “And call Tyler, I wish to speak with him.”</p><p>He didn’t wait for a reply, leaving the hybrid to take care of it. Klaus entered the foyer, pausing in his step and listening in to the many sounds that echoed throughout the house - the pounding jackhammer being used by the workers in the ballroom, a few of his hybrids chatting in the kitchen, and the beating hearts of various servants employed to maintain the grounds. None of it was what he was looking for. Frowning in annoyance, he strode towards the kitchen, intent on getting answers.</p><p>The hybrids heard him coming, their backs straightening and the easy chatter cutting off as he entered. A couple were leant against the counters, a third even sat on it, bagged blood clutched in their hands. Klaus immediately focused his attention on the female hybrid sat on the counter.</p><p>“Kimberley, where’s Sam?” He demanded.</p><p>“The new recruit? Said he was going to the woods.” She answered, jumping down from the counter. Klaus’ expression immediately soured, making the dark-haired girl quickly rush to please him, the sire bond urge strong. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he said you wouldn’t mind.”</p><p>“Of course he did.” Klaus sighed, looking out the windows towards the woods.</p><p>“I can go get him-”</p><p>“Don’t bother." Klaus ordered, expression murderous, heading straight for the back door leading outside. "I’ll do it myself.”</p>
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</div>As the sun rose higher, the forest canopy parted to let beams of light cascade down onto the undergrowth below. Birdsong filled the air with beautiful melodies, carrying across the light breeze, ruffling Sam's hair as he knelt on the fallen leaves and rich grass, closing his eyes. He let his heightened senses override everything, listening to echoes of movement throughout the woods; rabbits chewing on food, deer walking through the foliage, birds twittering above and flying through the trees. He placed his palm on the warmth earth, splaying his hand on the ground below as he felt the vibrations beneath his fingertips.<p>When he opened his eyes, they were glowing yellow.</p>
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</div>"SAM!"<p>Klaus’ loud voice pierced the silence, causing birds in the trees to take flight in fright. He strode through the woods, his eyes searching for the younger hybrid.</p><p>"SAM!" Klaus roared, patience spent. "You better have a good excuse for being out here! I just spent the morning daggering Rebekah and I assure you, I doubt finding a witch to do the equivalent to you won't be hard." He threatened darkly.</p><p>Behind him, twigs snapped, leaves rustling as something moved through the bushes. Klaus halted in his tracks, turning slowly around. His eyes searched the woods, skimming over the trees and shrubs as he focused his hearing, listening for movement. More branches snapped, the ground displaced. Klaus flashed in the direction of the sound, believing he would find Sam. And he was right, in a sense.</p><p>Yellow eyes bore into him from the shadows, staring Klaus down. For a moment, all Klaus could do was stand still, caught off guard in his surprise. Then he swallowed, carefully lowering himself to the ground, kneeling down, afraid of spooking the creature meters away. He’d seen Sam’s wolf form dozens of times, when the hybrid was just a boy. In the beginning, Sam had been too young to run with the other werewolves of Lycaon’s pack. His wolf form had been uniquely equivalent to his age, appearing the size of a six-month-old wolf pup. In comparison to the other werewolves, Sam was at a severe disadvantage if any rough play broke out amongst the pack members, and Lycaon couldn’t keep his eyes on Sam the entire time, having to protect and guide numerous other werewolves.</p><p>As a result, once Klaus’ disdain of the boy lessened, Lycaon had asked Klaus to watch over Sam every full moon. Klaus had protested against it (he was certainly <em>not</em> a babysitter, thank you very much) but after witnessing Sam turn - howling in pain and begging for it to stop - Klaus never left his side again. Even if he wasn’t staying with the pack at the time, for those first ten years, Klaus would always return to stay with Sam on a full moon, only stopping when Sam’s body began to learn to shift painlessly from experience.</p><p>By the time Sam had reached his late teens, finally able to join the pack on a full moon, Klaus understood the body language of Sam’s wolf far better than anyone in the pack, cable of reading every twitch, growl and bark. A detail he was feeling thankful for as he watched the wolf remain hidden, sheltered by the branches hanging over him, head low and ears pinned back against his skull.</p><p>The wolf was scared.</p><p>No doubt Sam had felt the pull, the newfound ability to run at will, and answered the call to change for the first time since he had turned into a hybrid. It made sense - Klaus hadn’t given him time to explore the enhanced werewolf side of his abilities, too focused on teaching him the basics of being a vampire and helping him adjust. Today was most likely the first day Sam had found a moment to slip away. But then Klaus had come storming out into the woods, bellowing his name, his scent a mix of wolf and vampire, something Sam’s wolf would not be used to. No wonder the wolf had hid at the first sight of him, sensing not only an alpha, but a dangerous predator.</p><p>Klaus cringed, that pesky feeling of guilt rising again. His anger wasn’t directed at Sam, but at Stefan, and in his inability to deal with his emotions in the correct way he had made Sam’s wolf afraid of him. </p><p>As Rebekah would no doubt say if she wasn’t daggered in a box - he was a bloody idiot.</p><p>“Hello.” Klaus greeted, keeping his voice soft and quiet, summoning a tentative smile. Sam’s furry ears twitched at his voice, rising slightly before lowering again. “I’m not going to hurt you, little wolf. Won’t you come out?”</p><p>Klaus kept still, one elbow resting on his raised knee. One wrong move would turn that fear into aggression, and although a bite would heal, Klaus didn’t fancy being on the other end of Sam’s teeth. He watched as the wolf’s nose twitched, sniffing the air and catching Klaus’ scent. He must have finally recognised it, because not a moment later, the wolf was cautiously stepping out of the shadows, tawny brown fur catching in the light, causing it to shine an almost golden orange. Waves of dark chocolate brown and creamy white fur also melted together amongst the coat, the fur darker around the wolf’s immediate face.</p><p>Klaus let his smile widen. “There you are.” He breathed, voice soft.</p><p>The wolf came closer, approaching Klaus, his steps becoming braver, even though his head and ears remained low. Sam was probably regaining control, instincts dulling as he got to grips with this new balance of wolf and vampire senses. Klaus’ familiar scent - if now different from the last time the wolf was free - was also most likely a factor.</p><p>Klaus watched, remaining still as Sam’s wolf form neared, which was way smaller than Lycaon’s form, more typical of an average werewolf; large enough in size that he and Klaus were face to face. Careful not to spook him, Klaus slowly raised a hand, and after sniffing the offered limb, the wolf pushed his head against Klaus hand, body relaxing as he greeted him. Klaus immediately sank his fingers into Sam’s thick fur, bringing his other hand up to scratch the hybrid around the ears and rub his neck. The wolf’s eyes closed in bliss, pushing his head against Klaus’ neck affectionately.</p><p>
  <em>Nik</em>
</p><p>Klaus grinned, feeling the presence of Sam’s consciousness finally breaking through. Sam’s voice wasn’t as coherent as Lycaon’s, mostly a mass of emotions and fleeting impressions, rather than solid thoughts, but just the ability to hear Sam speak after decades of watching him turn, cursed to never hear him due to Esther’s curse, filled Klaus with newfound warmth.</p><p>“Hello, Sam.” Klaus greeted back, chuckling as the wolf’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as Klaus caught a particular spot behind his ears. The wolf let out a low rumble of pleasure, but pulled back when he realised he was making the sound, shaking himself free. Klaus laughed at Sam’s obvious attempt at maintaining dignity.</p><p>
  <em>Run, Nik.</em>
</p><p>Klaus frowned, confused. “What?”</p><p>The wolf barked playfully, jumping backwards and flashing to a spot several meters away, obviously waiting for Klaus to follow. He barked again, impatient, lowering down on his front paws while his back and tail stuck in the air, a clear invitation to play. </p><p>
  <em>Run, run, run.</em>
</p><p>Klaus’ eyes widened, understanding dawning in his eyes as he rose to his feet. Although Sam’s speech was basic, the wolf still maintaining dominance, the wave of eagerness and excitement was clear. He wanted Klaus to join him, to turn and run with him. </p><p>Anxiety rolled in Klaus’ gut.</p><p>“No, Sam. Not now.” He tried to inform gently. Sam was having none of it, running back up to Klaus and yipping at his heels like an energetic puppy and not the bloodthirsty hybrid he was.</p><p>
  <em>Run, Nik!</em>
</p><p>“No.”</p><p>
  <em>Run! Run! Run!</em>
</p><p>“I said no, Sam!” Klaus snapped, voice sharp as his eyes flashed yellow, the alpha in his blood rising. Sam recoiled, ears lying flat against his head as he backed away. Klaus immediately regretted it. “Sam-” He started, but the hybrid was now whining, head hung low. Klaus could feel fear, along with other emotions like embarrassment and shame trembling along Sam’s consciousness. He sighed, running a hand through his blonde curls. “Oh, bloody hell.”</p><p>Klaus squatted down so they were eye level again, getting Sam to look at him. “Hey.” He called. “My apologies, that… you didn’t deserve that.” </p><p>
  <em>Run?</em>
</p><p>Klaus sighed again, looked down at the floor. “I can’t Sam. I can’t run.”</p><p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p><p>Klaus clenched his jaw.</p><p>
  <em>Why? Explain, Nik.</em>
</p><p>“Because it hurts, alright?” He yelled, snapping. “It hurts to turn.”</p><p>At his outburst, the wolf flinched. Klaus kept his gaze locked with those frightened yellow orbs for a few more seconds before breaking his gaze away, frustrated. Silence fell, neither moving.</p><p>Klaus had tried to turn, not long after he had broken the curse. Eight broken bones later and unimaginable agony and he hadn’t tried again. Centuries ago, Lycaon had promised to be by his side when he finally broke the curse, promised to teach him everything he knew. And Lycaon had been there that night, running with Klaus through Mystic Falls side by side for the first time since he triggered the wolf. It had been the greatest experience of his one thousand years of life, the sense of freedom and feeling of coming home so immense his memories of the night were hazy. But days later, his father left after a heated argument between them, having discovered how Klaus was going to make his hybrids. Since then, Klaus had wrestled his wolf into submission, beating it down and suppressing it so far that it almost hurt, almost as a last act of defiance. It had seemed the best plan at the time, unable to control the instincts that came with his werewolf side. Now, seeing Sam’s freedom? All he felt was envy and bitterness.</p><p>Suddenly, a wet nose nudged his hand. Klaus looked up to see Sam resting his head on his knee. The wolf released a low, pleading murmur, eyes worried.</p><p>
  <em>Show you?</em>
</p><p>Klaus’ eyes widened. Was Sam...offering to teach him?</p><p>“You would do that?” Klaus asked, voice quiet with disbelief.</p><p>
  <em>Pack. Owe you.</em>
</p><p>Klaus understood. They were family now, or perhaps, they always had been.</p><p>He swallowed, bringing up a hand to stroke Sam’s fur. “Thank you, Sam.” A low, pleased rumble was his response. Klaus smiled. “But before that, I need you to help me with a problem.”</p><p>The wolf tilted his head in that funny way canines do, curious.</p><p>
  <em>Problem?</em>
</p><p>“Stefan Salvatore has decided it would be a brilliant idea to blackmail me.” He ground out, face darkening with rage. “I have two days to get every hybrid out of Mystic Falls or hybrid bodies are going to drop. That and he’s going to drop my siblings in the ocean, apparently.”</p><p>Sam reacted with a growl.</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Sam nudged his hand with his nose again, looking up at Klaus.</p><p>
  <em>Plan?</em>
</p><p>Klaus grinned, his eyes gleaming as he ran his fingers through Sam’s fur. He leaned in, meeting Sam’s lupine eyes. “See, this is why I like you.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_____________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div>Caroline spent most of the morning feeling sorry for herself, wallowing in every negative thought that had crossed her mind in the last twenty four hours. After a long cry in the front seat of her car, the missed calls from her mom finally snapped her out of her stupor. Caroline rarely ditched school - you couldn’t achieve straight A’s if you did.<p>She found herself outside the Police Station before long, dropping in to see her Mom for lunch. She wasn’t exactly pleased Caroline had skipped school, but despite their differences in the past, her Mom sensed something was wrong like she always did and let her stay. The deputies were even kind enough to grab some fries for her while they were on patrol, and one of them -Jimmy who always looked out for her - slipped her a box of ice cream when he found out she had broken up with Tyler, resulting in her munching on the raided goods while her Mom filled out paperwork, the two of them talking about safe topics, her mom unaware of her current woes. It like she was a normal seventeen (or eighteen) year-old daughter, and her mom a normal town Sheriff again. It was nice, and by the time she left, hours later, she felt better. Her and her mom didn’t get much time together, what with her work hours being so long and unpredictable, and the moment was what she needed. No friends. No ex-boyfriends. No birthday celebrations. Just her and her mom.</p><p>Of course, when she returned home, she realised she hadn’t entirely dodged the bullet. Bonnie, Matt and Elena were waiting for her, equipped with tequila and party hats, ready to celebrate the belated eighteenth birthday she really didn’t want to face. Which then turned into her funeral, per Elena’s idea. Her heart swelled for her friends in that moment, how supportive and caring they were. A funeral sure was different but, yeah. Caroline could go with that. She needed to move on, right? Move on from her previous dreams, from who she was before. She needed to move on from Tyler.</p><p>The problem was, drunk her didn’t get the same memo, which was why she found herself typing out a text to him hours later, tipsy from the alcohol they had shared between them. </p><p>
  <em>Hey. I miss you.</em>
</p><p>Caroline bit her lip. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit send. His reply was almost immediate - he must have been thinking about her too.</p><p>
  <em>I miss you too, Caroline.</em>
</p><p>A pause, and then seconds later, another text:</p><p>
  <em>Did you have a good birthday?</em>
</p><p>She tenderly smiled down at her screen. Why was he always so thoughtful? Her face fell slightly. God, now she felt worse. He was really trying wasn’t he? Didn’t she owe him the same?</p><p>Her fingers danced across the keypad quickly, typing out a reply.</p><p>
  <em>I ditched school. Elena, Bonnie and Matt ambushed me and dragged me to the cemetery.</em>
</p><p>She put her phone away, faking listening to whatever Matt was talking about - some embarrassing story from freshman year. </p><p>Her phone vibrated after a few minutes, and she discreetly looked at it.</p><p><em>The cemetery?</em> Was his incredulous response.</p><p>She rushed to explain. </p><p>
  <em>We’re having a funeral. Since, I’m like, dead now.</em>
</p><p>She paused.</p><p>
  <em>Birthdays are so overrated. Funerals are the next big thing now, didn’t you know?</em>
</p><p>Seconds later, she could practically hear his laughter in the text he replied with. <em>Are you drunk?</em></p><p>She scoffed. Elena sent her a look. Caroline smiled at her, probably way too wide, which wasn’t suspicious at all. </p><p>
  <em>What? No.</em>
</p><p>He didn’t reply and she could hear his incredulity.</p><p><em>Maybe a little bit.</em> She finally admitted.</p><p>
  <em>You’re cute when you’re drunk, you know that?</em>
</p><p>Caroline grinned down at the text, a slight blush to her cheeks. Why did he have to be sire bonded to Klaus when he said things like that?</p><p>“Caroline, what are you doing?” Elena asked, catching her on her phone. Caroline quickly hid it behind her back.</p><p>“Hmm? Huh? Nothing.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>Silence fell, Caroline trying her best not to fidget under the suspicious gazes of her friends. Elena was definitely not convinced of her innocence.</p><p>“Ok.” She started, amused. “You’re a bad sober liar. You’re an even worse drunk liar.”</p><p>Caroline winced, lips curving into a sheepish smile. “I might have texted Tyler.”</p><p>Instantly, disappointment flashed in Elena’s eyes. She’d always been wary of Tyler’s sire bond to Klaus, though supportive of Caroline in whatever decision she chose when it came to dealing with what to do next. Ever since Tyler nearly killed Jeremy, that had all gone down the drain, her stance on Tyler hostile at worst, and disapproving at best. Caroline told herself Elena was only looking out for her, which she was, there was no doubt about that. But a part of Caroline also knew, Elena’s determination to get Tyler out of the picture was partially selfish, because the hybrid was a threat to her too, not just Caroline.</p><p>“Caroline.” Elena reprimanded.</p><p>“What?” Caroline exclaimed, her voice growing small. “I’m delicate.”</p><p>“Oh, give her a break. You can’t control what everyone does all the time.” Bonnie jumped in to defend her.</p><p>Which, yay! Great. The passive aggressive remark meant for Elena? Not so much.</p><p>Undoubtedly, it got worse from there. Bonnie and Elena argued about Jeremy, thoroughly ruining the scraps of what little good mood she’d managed to piece together over the last few hours. She put her phone away, the confidence she had gained from the light buzz from the alcohol dissipating. It didn’t matter how she felt about Tyler - although Elena wasn’t right about everything (a.k.a definitely with Bonnie on the Jeremy thing, not that she would bring that up) but she was right about Tyler. She couldn’t trust him. Not while he was sired to Klaus.</p><p>Elena and Matt seemed determined to forget about the argument and Bonnie’s consequential exit, eagerly jumping into the duty of making Caroline laugh. She let them distract her, celebrating her funeral with stories and jokes, as well as a lot more tequila. She definitely needed it. </p><p>They all did.</p><p>Suddenly, the crypt doors opened, and their laughter died, finding Tyler stood in the doorway.</p><p>Crap. She had told him where they were, hadn't she?</p><p>“Sorry, I didn’t mean to crash the party.” Tyler offered, looking awkward and nervous.</p><p>Matt glared at him. He hadn’t forgiven Tyler for hurting Jeremy either. “Then don’t.”</p><p>Sensing the hostility in the room, Caroline quickly rose to her feet, sending worried glances between the two parties. “No, it’s, uh, it’s ok.” She turned to Tyler, her smile unsure. “Hi.”</p><p>“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Tyler asked, jerking his head in a direction away from Elena and Matt. “It’s kind of important.”</p><p>Caroline sighed, her face falling. But before she could think better of it, she was nodding, moving to follow. She sent a sheepish glance to Elena and Matt.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a minute.” She reassured, trying to ignore the disapproving way Elena looked at her.</p><p>They walked in silence out of the cemetery and deeper in the woods, getting a good distance away from Elena and Matt. Caroline hugged her sides, teeth worrying her lip as she watched Tyler walk beside her, seeming as nervous as she was. God, she hated long silences. Hated how awkward it felt. Why was it easier to talk over a text?</p><p>They came to a stop, Caroline breaking the silence first. “So.... what did you want to talk about?”</p><p>“I take it all back. Everything I said this morning.” Caroline moved to interrupt, thinking she knew where this was going, but Tyler continued. “Klaus can’t control me. Not when it comes to you. I won’t let him.” He declared, tone determined.</p><p>She sighed, closing her eyes for a second. She had to stay strong, even though it was hard, even though it hurt. She deserved to be happy and Tyler… Tyler did make her happy. He did. But now, things were just… just too broken. “Tyler, it’s ok. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be together. Maybe we just have to accept that and move on.”</p><p>“I’m not moving on from anything.” He denied. “I love you.”</p><p>She froze, eyes widening. Did he just…? No one had ever said that to her yet. None of her ex-boyfriends had ever said the L-word. Her and Matt hadn’t been together long, she wasn’t even going to count Damon, and the boy she met on holiday that became a summer fling and ended with her losing her virginity didn’t really count either.</p><p>Her heart melted, her resilience snapping. “What?” She breathed.</p><p>He kissed her. Then she kissed him. And maybe it was the tequila, or the fact that she really didn’t want to lose him, not like this, but whatever the case, she realised those kisses were going to turn into a full make out session, right here in the freaking woods, and Caroline couldn’t bring herself to care.</p><p>Because he loved her.</p><p>He loved her.</p><p>(She didn’t even realise she hadn’t said it back)</p><p>A sharp, piercing pain pinched at her neck, and suddenly Caroline leapt back, out of reach from Tyler, who had been kissing his way down her neck. “OUCH!” Her hand went to her collarbone, the painful sensation not dimming. “What the hell? Oww...” Now it was burning, the whole area throbbing, building. She trailed off, lungs heaving as her mind caught up to what she was feeling, what expression she was seeing on the Tyler’s face, the way he clutched his mouth and if she really concentrated, how she could see the faintest trace of her dark blood on his lips. “What just happened?”</p><p>“Oh no.” He breathed, horrified. Caroline’s eyes widened, realising what had happened.</p><p>“Did you just-” She heaved another breath of air, rage engulfing her senses. Rage was good. Rage made her feel stronger. “Did you just <em>bite</em> me?”</p><p>“Oh, my god. I’m sorry.” Tyler apologised, almost as hysterical as her. She could see it was an accident, that he hadn’t meant to do it, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. A hybrid bite was fatal to a vampire.</p><p>She was going to die.</p><p>“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, the unrelenting panic setting in as her lungs screamed. In front of her, Tyler was having a panic attack of his own, as if he was the one bitten, the one that was dying.</p><p>“Oh no, Caroline. No, no, no, Caroline?”</p><p>She fell back against the tree trunk behind her, legs giving out. Tyler moved forward to help or offer comfort, she didn’t care. He had said he loved her. And then he had bitten her.</p><p>She was going to die, because of <em>him</em>.</p><p>“Just get away from me!” She screeched, terrified but mostly angry. Angry at him, at everything. Why was it always her? “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She roared, all her emotions releasing in a wave of fury, hiding the hurt, the hole where her heart used to be.</p><p>Tyler stumbled back, his eyes pleading for her to understand. She averted her gaze, refusing to even look at him. She hated him for ruining everything.</p><p>When he left, she hated him for that, too.<br/>
_______________________________________________</p><p>Klaus walked up the stairs of the Forbes house, fingers trailing up the banister.</p><p>Everything had gone according to plan.</p><p>Well, not everything. Klaus had to respect Stefan for being such a persistent pain in his arse. Even he hadn’t predicted the vampire would threaten the doppelganger's life, not expecting how much of a lunatic the ripper had turned into.</p><p>However, despite the inconvenience of Stefan’s arrogance, everything else had fallen together perfectly. Mayor Lockwood had pledged allegiance to protect Tyler, keeping the council oblivious of his family’s and the hybrids’ nature. Tyler had been put in his place the moment he had bitten his girlfriend, reminded who was truly in control. But that wasn’t the only reason why he had asked Tyler to bite the baby vampire - Elizabeth Forbes had been steadfast in protecting the town, even if it meant from him. She refused to pick a side between him and the Salvatores, a stance that had needed to be corrected. By making sure Caroline was the collateral damage, he killed two birds with one stone.</p><p>He arrived on the landing and before long, his heightened senses picked up her laboured breaths, as if her lungs were too tight. His nose also picked up a slight body odour - not noticeable to humans or vampires, a werewolf advantage alone - which was probably due to the fever, her body sweating in a desperate attempt to cool down.</p><p>Quietly, he walked to the doorway, staying out of sight, not wanting to startle her. She was awake, he noticed, her brows furrowed in pain and discomfort. Her forehead was slick with sweat, hair damp and skin a sickly shade of white, clearly ill, fatally so.</p><p>There were no fireworks or sudden epiphanies when he saw her, nor a great realisation that the person he was seeing in front of him would one day become important. They had never officially met, even though they had seen each other from afar - Klaus even remembered seeing her bright smile at the high school dance, back when he was in Alaric’s body. Instead, he felt strangely calm. At ease. Even the wolf inside - which had been making him feel unnaturally unstable ever since he broke the curse, making him prone to feeling two sets of emotions at once, rather than one - was quiet. It seemed to settle upon seeing her, just as curious as he was.</p><p>Why?</p><p>Klaus wasn’t certain of the why, exactly. Sure, she was pretty, certainly attractive. But he had met plenty of attractive women over the centuries, shared his bed with plenty more. He had even stood in the presence of Queens and Empresses, Princesses and Duchesses. Every single one held a unique grace, a special strength. And although he couldn’t pinpoint why, the way Caroline looked, her eyes ablaze even on death’s door, well… It made her outshine all of them.</p><p>Klaus paused, before pushing through the door frame, as if pulled towards her by a string. She looked up as he entered, surprise and - curiously - resignation crossing her features as she recognised him.</p><p>“Are you here to kill me?”</p><p>“On your birthday? You really think that low of me?” He asked, faking hurt.</p><p>She glared at him, eyes igniting with glorious fire. “Yes.”</p><p>It shocked him, her lack of fear. He came closer to the bed, his intrigue spiked. Slowly, so she knew what he was doing, he pulled the blanket down from where he knew the bite festered, the scent of sickness potent to his sensitive hybrid nose.</p><p>“Oh, that looks bad.” He stated, faking empathy. “My apologies. You're what’s known as collateral damage. It’s nothing personal.” His words didn’t raise much of a reaction, even though she remained intent on sending daggers his way. Surely she knew his blood was the cure, since the elder Salvatore had survived? So why wasn’t she begging for her life? Why wasn’t she pleading for him to save her? Trying to appeal to his humanity? Anyone else would break.</p><p>How…<em>strange</em>.</p><p>(Remarkable, another part of his mind whispered)</p><p>His eyes landed on the bracelet around her wrist. Perhaps a birthday gift? Definitely from the mutt, whatever it was, judging from the pawprint and wolf charm hanging alongside her initials. “I love birthdays.” He stated, trying a different tactic, hoping for a reaction this time.</p><p>She didn’t seem impressed with his change of heart, seeing right through him. “Yeah.” She scoffed. “Aren’t you like… a bajillion or something?”</p><p>Klaus looked down, trying to hide his smile.</p><p>“You have to adjust your perception of time when you become a vampire, Caroline. Celebrate the fact that you’re no longer bound by trivial human conventions.” He advised. “You’re free.”</p><p>“No. I’m dying.” She ground out, sending him an angry glare.</p><p>Ok, he could give her that one. It was quite tactless of him.</p><p>Klaus sat down on the edge of her bed as he thought about what to say, his legs just brushing hers hidden under the covers.</p><p>“And I could let you die… if that’s what you want, if you really believe your existence has no meaning. I’ve thought about once or twice myself over the centuries, truth be told.” He admitted, causing a flicker of surprise to flash across her features for a moment. </p><p>He didn’t understand why he was being so honest, not really. Perhaps it wasn’t just the fact she was frail and dying, deathly pale in her weak state, but also because he recognised the look in her eyes. The look of someone who had been beaten down again and again, always getting back up to fight another day. The look of someone who wasn’t just tired, in need of sleep, but bones wary, tired deep in their heart, in a dire need of peace. It was the look of someone he had seen reflected back at him in the mirror many times over the centuries, when he was on the cusp of giving in, declaring defeat. To see it on a face so young, so full of light, made him feel an unexplainable need to fix it.</p><p>“But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Klaus leaned down, inches away from her face as he locked with her pained gaze. “There’s a whole world out there waiting for you, great cities and art and music…” Klaus trailed off, his hand reaching out to touch Tyler’s charm bracelet hanging on her wrist. His eyes flickered to it, before moving back to her. “<em>Genuine</em> beauty.” He finished, the emphasis telling her everything she needed to know on how he viewed the bracelet, as if it was laughable. As if she deserved more - as if a beautiful girl deserved beautiful things, not childish charms. </p><p>“And you can have all of it.” He continued. “You can have a thousand more birthdays. All you have to do is ask.” He offered, his eyes searching for her answer.</p><p>Her lip trembled, the little resolve she still held cracking under the pressure of despair. “I don’t want to die.” She tried to say steadily, but in the end it dissolved into a pleading cry.</p><p>Her control only made him admire her more.</p><p>Klaus rolled his sleeve up, using his other arm to pick her up and rest her against his chest, curling around her to support her weak body, which had no strength left to keep her upright.</p><p>“There you go, sweetheart. Have at it.” He offered his arm out to her, and after glancing at him with those expressive eyes - disbelief and sadness and hope all exploding in a beautiful supernova - she sank her teeth into his flesh, gouging on the healing ambrosia held within. “Happy Birthday, Caroline.” Klaus breathed, running a hand through her hair. He let her feed, more than was necessary for her to heal. Despite there not being even a hint of the dark creature under her skin (and what an impressive sight that was, the unwavering control of a baby vampire - he’d never seen anything like her), Klaus knew in her weakened state the bloodlust would be running rampant. Better she fed on him, rather than the humans downstairs.</p><p>Eventually, whether after seconds, minutes or hours, she pulled her fangs out, her eyes drooping shut with exhaustion. Klaus watched the wound on her collarbone slowly heal, pulling the blanket higher over it. Gently, he lowered her back down onto the bed, careful not to jolt her. Kol had explained what it felt like to be bitten once, since Klaus had never experienced it. He’d explained the roaring fever that left you feeling like you were burning alive, the sharp needle-like pain that vibrated across your nerves with every movement. His blood was most certainly doing its work, saving her from imminent death, but since she was such a young vampire, he guessed she would be feeling the aftershocks for a while.</p><p>Klaus tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, watching her valiantly fight against losing consciousness. “You can rest now, sweetheart. No need to fight it.” He reassured, his words seeming to be what she needed to let go, her eyes fluttering closed seconds later.</p><p>He rose to his feet, shaking his head to dissipate the momentary dizziness. He’d need to feed tonight now, he realised - she’d taken a lot of his blood. Absent-mindedly he pulled his sleeve down, his own bite mark closing as it healed up. He turned to leave, his back to her, when her voice weakly called after him.</p><p>“Klaus?” </p><p>He turned back, noting she hadn’t opened her eyes. “Yes, Caroline?”</p><p>Her brow furrowed, her words exhaling on a sigh. “Thank you.”</p><p>Klaus waited for her to say more, but her expression had relaxed. She had drifted off. His lips curved into a small, tender smile, and an unfamiliar - yet by no means unwelcome - warmth spread through his chest.</p><p>“Your welcome, Caroline.” He whispered as he left, quietly closing the door behind him.</p><p>When he descended the stairs, Caroline’s mother was sitting in the living room, a mug of coffee held tightly between her hands, brows furrowed with worry. The Donovan boy was nowhere to be seen, perhaps the Sheriff had finally sent him home.</p><p>The woman jumped to her feet when she noticed him, placing the mug on the coffee table. “Is she alright?” She asked.</p><p>“She’s sleeping. Your daughter will make a full recovery, Sheriff.” He reassured her. “I assume I can count on your support?”</p><p>Her expression soured, settling into a glare. She certainly had courage, just like her daughter. “Don’t worry, Klaus. I know how to pay my debts.”</p><p>Klaus smirked, hiding it by glancing at the photographs sitting on the shelves, many of which were of a younger Caroline, her toothy grin shining out at him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff.” She didn’t reply with a fake pleasantry of her own.</p><p>Klaus moved into the hallway, knowing when he was no longer welcome.</p><p>“Klaus.” Liz called, causing Klaus to stop, his hand halfway risen to open the door. He titled his head in her direction, indicating he was listening. “Make no mistake, I don’t care if you’re the oldest vampire on this earth. I <em>will</em> kill you if you are responsible for harming my daughter again.”</p><p>Klaus turned around, meeting her fierce gaze. She didn’t back down under his scrutiny, her resolve never wavering. Few people had ever looked him in the eye with such blatant defiance and hatred over the centuries, and less still devoid of fear, at least visibly. Caroline had obviously learnt that from her mother. </p><p>“You have my word, your daughter won’t be harmed, Sheriff. Regardless of her friend's stupidity.” Klaus vowed, realising he wasn’t lying.</p><p>Liz nodded, her eyes hard.  She didn’t thank him for his mercy, didn’t try to appeal to his humanity. She only replied with one word: “Good.”</p><p>Klaus smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. <em>Not bad, Sheriff.</em></p><p>He dipped his head in respect, grabbing the door handle and stepping outside, leaving the brave human woman behind. </p><p>His thoughts ran rampant as he strode out onto the porch and down the steps, his stride faster than usual in his eagerness. The Sheriff’s protectiveness had sparked an idea of his own. The blonde beauty currently sleeping off her ordeal deserved more than that cheap farce of a bracelet on her wrist, and it seemed he needed to offer a token of apology, more sincere than just feeble words.</p><p>After flashing away from the house, stopping under a tree on the other side of the road, not far from the sidewalk, Klaus pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket, unlocking the screen. He dialled the number by heart, bringing the phone to his ear and listening to the device ring. On the fifth ring, he was getting impatient, his excitement subsiding, and by the seventh, his annoyance had spiked to dangerous levels.</p><p>Finally, the phone clicked as the call was answered.</p><p>“Sam?”</p><p>“What?” A groggy voice answered, thick with sleep.</p><p>“Are you awake?” Klaus questioned, impatient.</p><p>“I am fucking now, aren’t I?” Came Sam’s furious reply.</p><p>“No need for that language, mate.”</p><p>“No need? <em>No need?!</em> Nik, it’s what-” Sam paused, clearly checking the time on his phone. “- it’s nearly fucking 3 o’clock in the morning. I can swear however much I like, you asshole.”</p><p>“Charming.” Nik commented, amused.</p><p>Sam groaned on the other end. “What do you want, you prick?”</p><p>“I need a favour.”</p><p>There was a long pause.</p><p>“At fucking 3 o’clock in the morning?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Sam didn’t sound impressed. “I’m going back to bed.”</p><p>“Sam!” Klaus growled over the phone. “Don’t you dare.”</p><p>The younger hybrid sighed from the other end. “Nik, come on, I’m exhausted. If you’re not dying I’m going back to sleep.”</p><p>Klaus turned around on the spot in his frustration. “You’re a hybrid now, part vampire. You’re nocturnal. The dead don’t need sleep.”</p><p>“That’s because they’re fucking dead.” Sam deadpanned. “I’m part werewolf. A part- werewolf that turned - an exhausting process, despite being painless, I’ll have you know -” Klaus rolled his eyes at the hybrids’s dramatics, “-and followed Stefan Salvatore for you all day. All day, Nik. And before you blame me for the debacle on the bridge, I stopped the car. Jumped right on the freakin' bonnet, furry tail and all, scared the shit out of them. It’s not my fault the vampire was then crazy enough to threaten to throw the doppelganger over the railing.” Sam ground out. Klaus scowled, not needing the reminder of Stefan’s success at blackmailing him. Thankfully, Stefan hadn’t seen Sam in his human form yet, and therefore wouldn’t realise one hybrid remained within the town’s borders. “So, bye, Nik.” Sam concluded, ready to end the call.</p><p>“Wait!” Klaus protested, desperate for Sam to not hang up the phone. “Please, I need your assistance in a delicate matter.”</p><p>An even longer pause followed.</p><p>“Did you just say please?” Sam asked eventually, tone incredulous.</p><p>Klaus hesitated. “...No.”</p><p>“You did, didn’t you?” Sam teased, and Klaus could practically see him grinning.</p><p>“Sam…” Klaus growled in warning.</p><p>“Oh, stop it. You should be glad you said it. Now I’m intrigued what got the great Klaus Mikaelson so desperate he said please.”</p><p>“Are you going to do as I say or not?” Klaus ground out, eyes sparking with fierce fire.</p><p>“Fire away. Not like I was sleeping or anything.” </p><p>Klaus sighed. “I need you to go to the east wing and retrieve something for me.”</p><p>“Alright.” Klaus heard the sheets rustle as Sam got out of bed. “May I ask what I am retrieving?”</p><p>“An article of jewellery. A bracelet.”</p><p>This time, the silence stretched so long Klaus thought Sam had hung up on him.</p><p>“Sam?”</p><p>“Still here.” Sam confirmed. “Just contemplating my now very awake status. Fuck’s sake, I’m not going to get back to sleep after that.”</p><p>Klaus understood clearly the implied question in Sam’s voice. <em>And</em> what Sam had most definitely assumed. He ignored him. “Just get to the damn east wing will you?” He hissed.</p><p>“I’m going! Fucking hell. Give me a chance, would you? You’d think after living a thousand years you’d learn some patience.” A pause, a door opening and echoing in the silence, footsteps on carpet. “What door is it? There’s so many bedrooms in this place it’s no wonder I can find my own.”</p><p>“It’s a single door, right side of the corridor. Should lead to a wardrobe. They’ve finished renovating in that area.” Klaus directed. He listened to the sound of Sam opening and closing numerous doors, muttering obscenities under his breath. Klaus glanced back to Caroline’s house, taking in the now dark windows. Her mother had finally gone to bed.</p><p>“Think I’ve found it. Well, I assume so since I checked every other single door on the right side of the corridor. Couldn’t be more specific could you, you pri-” Sam abruptly cut off, the sound of a door opening wide loud.</p><p>A pause, then: “Nik, this isn’t a wardrobe. This is a fucking warehouse.”</p><p>“It’s a walk-in-wardrobe.”</p><p>“No, it’s a fucking warehouse. It’s even organised by decade - you’ve got authentic clothing from the last couple of centuries in here.”</p><p>“It only dates back to the 1800s, don’t be ridiculous. Clothing doesn’t last that long.” Klaus refuted, exasperated.</p><p>“Are you sure? There’s rows. Fucking rows of dresses and suites and shirts and coats. What are you storing for? The plague of moths that eats the entire clothing industry?”</p><p>Klaus glared at a tree not far from him, mentally counting all the reasons why he couldn’t kill Sam. “You know, if I had known you would grace me with this commentary I would have never agreed to turn you.”</p><p>“You love my commentary. Now, where’s the jewellery stored. Row 26?”</p><p>Klaus sighed, rubbing his forehead and grinding his teeth together. “It’s in the next room.”</p><p>“<em>There’s another fucking room of this?</em>”</p><p>“No, Sam, there’s a <em>separate</em> room for the bloody jewellery.” Klaus gestured to help explain, even though Sam couldn't see him. “Now stop wasting time and find the double doors that lead to it.” He snarled.</p><p>“Oh, I see them. What would you know, it was hidden partially behind frilly frock coats. Bet you looked hilarious in one of those.”</p><p>“Sam.”</p><p>“Shame you don’t have any wigs. They used to wear them in the what, 1700s?”</p><p>“<em>Sam</em>.”</p><p>“Wait a minute, is that a shirt from the 70s? Oh dear god it is. And it has matching flared trousers! Please tell me you wore this? I mean it has to be you, right? Elijah was the only one that wasn’t daggered and he hated your guts at the time. And by god he would never wear this. It’s like a rainbow puked all over it.”</p><p>Klaus felt his eye twitch. “Sam. Bracelet. <em>Now</em>.” He ground out, voice holding dangerous warning.</p><p>A long suffering sigh carried over the line. “Fine. Be boring. I must say, I take back not wanting to get up. If you ever want anything retrieved from this place again, call me. No matter the hour. This is absolutely fantastic.” Sam declared, overly gleeful.</p><p>Klaus, on the other hand, was so done with his shit.</p><p>“I assure you, if you carry on I’ll burn the bloody room with you inside it.” He threatened, his voice so low and deadly anyone else would have pissed themselves.</p><p>Sam sniggered. “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to be threatening, but I’m looking at this dress and picturing you in it and it really ruins the image. It’s absolutely hideous.”</p><p>Klaus held himself back from kicking a nearby trash can over. “Sam I swear-”</p><p>“Here we are!” Sam declared louder than necessary.</p><p>There was a bang, clearly doors being violently swung open.</p><p>“If you break anything I will snap your neck.” Klaus growled.</p><p>“Oh shut up. You called me, remember? Now, you’re gonna need to give me more directions. There’s drawers all over this place and-” Sam stopped, and Klaus braced for whatever was going to come out of his mouth. “No fucking way.”</p><p>“What now?” Klaus snarled.</p><p>“Did you steal the fucking Crown Jewels? Is that why you’ve got an english accent?”</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>“I mean seriously, these are fucking diamonds. The size of my fist. My fist, Nik. And those necklaces - damn that’s a sapphire. That’s a fucking necklace made of sapphires mounted on diamonds. You could buy a freakin’ country with these.” Sam paused. “Wait. Surely Rebekah doesn’t own <em>all</em> of these. There’s like - actually I have no idea I think my sight is permanently damaged by the sparkle.”</p><p>Klaus took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Sam.” He hissed out. “The bracelet I need is in the top draw, left side at the far back. The links are like the shape of an infinity symbol, a figure of eight, decorated with diamonds. It should be in a blue velvet case.” He explained, with more patience than he physically had.</p><p>“You sure you don’t want me to bring this necklace to you?” Sam asked, and Klaus heard the clink of crystal and metal as what he presumed was a necklace being picked up. “I mean, whatever woman you’re trying to woo is going to die of shock upon seeing this thing, let alone swoon. I think it’s made of pure gold.” Sam mused.</p><p>“<em>Sam</em>.” </p><p>“Or man! Not being judgemental. Whichever way you swing is fine by me, Nik.” Sam backtracked, clearly distracted as he inspected something, his voice a little more distant, indicating he wasn’t holding the phone as close. “But if it <em>is</em> a girl, is she pretty?</p><p>“SAM!”</p><p>Klaus heard the necklace drop. “Fine, modest option it is. Which is probably best actually, because knowing you, this is a ‘I fucked up and I’m sorry’ gift, right?” Sam asked, the sound of a drawer opening giving Klaus the out he needed to not answer. “Don’t want to seem like you’re bribing her. Though, if you want my opinion, if it has diamonds on it, then you’re on dangerous ground. Courtship rules and all that - which you would know about since you’re like what? Older than dirt?”</p><p>“I am never asking you to retrieve anything again.”</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. If you let any of your hybrids in here they might run off with something.” Sam sighed, faking heartbreak. “Damn, I’m tempted to.”</p><p>“Don’t you dare.” Klaus warned. “Buy your own diamonds. Your inheritance from Lycaon is just as large as mine. You are bloody worse than Kol.”</p><p>“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sam retorted, not insulted. “Ah-hah!” He exclaimed in triumph, the sounds of him rooting through the drawer ceasing. “Found it! Well, it appears to be what you described. Might be wrong though, with the amount of jewellery in here I could have just mistook it for a look-alike.”</p><p>Klaus shook his head, his patience wearing thin. “Send me a picture. If you’re right, I’ll send you the address. Come straight here.”</p><p>“Nik, I’m in nothing but my boxers. I was in bed before this call.” Sam pointed out, unimpressed.</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>.” Klaus hissed. “Get dressed. Just hurry up and get here.”</p><p>“Oh!” Sam exclaimed, voice rich with excitement. “Does that mean I get to meet her?”</p><p>Klaus hung up on him.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div>When Caroline woke up the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the pain was gone, her mind clear. The second, was her window was open slightly, making her curtains sway in the small breeze that drifted in through the crack. Before she could wonder who had left it open, her eyes were pulled to where a thin, velvet box sat innocently on her bedside table.<p>For the rest of her life she would deny she ever tried the bracelet on, replacing Tyler’s birthday gift for just a second. But it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and surely not trying it on would be a crime against - against <em>something</em>. It’s not like she would keep it. In fact, she should probably throw it right in Klaus’ smug face for being such a creeper and breaking into her bedroom while she slept. Hell, she could throw that bracelet in the trash even. <em>That</em> would certainly wipe the smirk off his face. </p><p>…<br/>
…<br/>
…</p><p>She was going to take it off, ok? Just after she finished counting the diamonds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So in summary, Liz is a badass mother hen, Klaus is already on the road to falling in love with Caroline, Sam is a little shit and Caroline, as always, is an absolute delight.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Save me a dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Now I've got to grips with the flow a little, I can say they'll be slight time lapses between chapters in this story, working through the canon TVD storyline, focusing only on Klaroline scenes. It's going to jump days, sometimes weeks at a time, for example. I'll include my own new scenes, as well as re-worked ones we all know and love, as seen in the previous chapter. Eventually, I will diverge from canon, but just a reminder this is a slow burn and so it will be a while before that happens.</p><p>This chapter sets up the next three, which will actually be set around a few days, rather than jumping time. I'm also trying to update on a fortnightly, sometimes weekly, basis. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His siblings were awake.</p><p>Klaus had spent years dreaming of the day they could be a family again, the day when they would finally be safe from Mikael’s wrath. Upon his death, the only reason his siblings remained in boxes was he wanted to secure the doppelganger without their interference - that, and neutralize Stefan Salvatore. He should have just sent Sam to bite the psychotic ripper, but with the way Stefan had dropped hybrid bodies left, right and centre - and then stolen his mother’s coffin - he’d been too afraid to act.</p><p>The reunion with his siblings hadn’t been anything like he had imagined. He had expected anger, even outrage; the usual tantrums after spending so much time in a box. But his siblings instead stood united against him, threatening to turn their backs on him forever. Hated him, for killing their mother. Despite his despair at the thought of being alone, deep down he knew he couldn’t fault them for that. He hated himself too.</p><p>For centuries, their mother’s death had always haunted him, his deepest regret. He had only ever told two people, such was his shame - Aurora and Lycaon. </p><p>With Aurora, the wound was still raw, still weeping. At the time, his honesty was more a need for release, a need to tell at least <em><em>someone</em></em> lest he be driven mad. He wanted to be punished, to be told what a monster he was - but buried down in the darkness, he also wanted to be forgiven. Aurora had remained quiet as he spoke, listening attentively as he explained everything, looking up at him with those big doe eyes. His voice cracked as he told the tale of his werewolf heritage, the death of Henrik, the binding ritual and his mother’s betrayal, and finally the slaughter of his father’s pack. When he reached the point of his mother’s murder, he couldn’t look at her, too afraid of seeing the horror in his eyes. The <em>fear</em>. But she surprised him, like she always did, her small hand moving to rest on his cheek and forcing him to meet her eyes. Even centuries later, he still remembered the words she said to him that night:</p><p>
  <em>“You didn’t deserve their cruelty, Nik. She was entirely to blame for the fate that befell her, and anyone who believes otherwise is not worthy of your love.”</em>
</p><p>Her forgiveness had been such a shock, his body tense waiting for her rejection, he had spent the rest of the night held in her arms, his tears falling silently. With Lycaon, the situation had been completely different. It was centuries later when his naivety and vulnerability had long since been lost by decades of violence and betrayals. They had been arguing about something - in fact it was probably their first fight since Lycaon had found him - and Klaus had just <em>snapped</em>. Lycaon always left, never staying long, citing excuses that he needed to hunt down Mikael or was needed elsewhere by prominent werewolf packs. In his rage, Klaus blamed Lycaon for leaving him with Mikael as a boy; blamed him for being raised without a pack, a family - <em>blamed</em> him for his mother’s death, despite him being the one who ripped out her heart.</p><p>Klaus had expected Lycaon to be angry, to be enraged that his son had killed his once-lover. And Lycaon was - furious - that is. But not at Klaus. <em>Oh no</em>. He had watched in disbelief as Lycaon snarled and roared about Esther, how he wished he had been the one to tear out her apart. Not because he sought revenge, but because he believed Klaus should never have been put in the position to make such a choice, that a child should never feel so threatened by their parents that the only option left was violence. Lycaon hadn’t been angry <em>at </em> him, he had been angry <em>for</em> him.</p><p>That moment had been one of many where Klaus realised he could trust Lycaon far more than he could trust any of his siblings. Because he understood. He truly, wholly, understood in a way his siblings never had. Which had always made his blood father’s absence harder to deal with. Now, more so than ever.</p><p>Their mother had been resurrected, doing the one thing he would never have expected - she forgave him. She reunited their family as one, declared it was time to heal old wounds. It made Klaus nervous, deeply craving Lycaon’s advice and support. His siblings had all been so overjoyed to see her alive they hadn’t objected to her wishes, tolerating his presence.</p><p>But that was all it was. Tolerance. Not love. Klaus was certain their love for him had died the moment his sins were revealed.</p><p>The bitter part of him wished they had left. At least then, they all wouldn’t have to pretend this bloody charade of acceptance to keep their mother happy.</p><p>Klaus strode through the mansion at the thought, fists clenched tightly by his sides. As he drew closer to the room he knew his siblings were in, having their suits fitted for the Ball their mother had requested to host, his hearing picked up their voices.</p><p>“Rebekah. Tell me how handsome I look.”</p><p><em>That</em> was definitely Kol, the arrogant wanker.</p><p>“Oh, Kol, you know I can’t be compelled.”</p><p>Klaus scowled harder upon hearing his sister’s voice, his anger and frustration rising to dangerous levels. He threw the door open, striding inside with enraged purpose.</p><p>“You went after Elena. What is <em>wrong</em> with you.” He snarled. The hybrid he had tail Elena called him this morning, after waking up from a snapped neck. Apparently his sister had got the jump on him, moving onto Elena straight after. Luckily, the doppelgänger was still alive despite the hybrid’s incompetence - Klaus suspected Elijah had interfered. His brother always did have a weak spot for the Petrova line, despite his denial on the subject.</p><p>Speaking of the devil, Elijah looked up from inspecting his new shoes upon Klaus’ dramatic entrance, just as Finn hid a smirk a few feet away. Klaus scowled harder at the sight of their clear amusement.</p><p>“Here we go.” Rebekah greeted with a mocking smile, shooing the manicurist away and drawing her hands to her lap. Klaus glared.</p><p>“Do you want another dagger in your heart?”</p><p>Behind him, Kol spoke up from his seat on the ottoman beside the mirror. “Again with the dagger threats? Don’t you have any other tricks?”</p><p>Klaus turned around, his lips curling into a sneer. “Oh, go back to staring at yourself.” He said, already turning back to face Rebekah, dismissing the youngest Mikaelson.</p><p>Kol’s eyes narrowed on Klaus’ back. “And who are you, my father?”</p><p>Klaus’ shoulders tensed, his eye twitching. He turned around again, stepping closer to Kol in his building frustration. “No, Kol. But you’re in <em>my</em> house.”</p><p>Kol stood up, moving into his brother’s space, challenging him. “Then perhaps we should go outside.”</p><p>A tense silence hovered in the air, thick with hostility. Klaus refused to break from Kol’s gaze. From the adjourning room, footsteps approached, heels clicking across the wood.</p><p>“Enough.” His mother ordered, her gaze stern and unquestionable, flickering to all her children before finally settling on Klaus. “Niklaus, come.”</p><p>The most shit-eating grin sprung onto Kol’s face, and it took all of Klaus’ willpower not to punch him into next week. Or rip out his spleen. Maybe his intestines.</p><p>Glaring dangerously, Klaus shoved him to the side, following his mother out the room. “Rebekah wasn’t even out of her box a day and she tried to ruin my life.” He growled as they came to a stop further away. “What happened to peace, acceptance; family?”</p><p>“You put daggers in their hearts. You want them to go down on their knees and kiss your feet for reuniting them?” His mother rightfully pointed out.</p><p>Klaus avoided her gaze, failing to not look petulant. “So it’s a crime to want our family to be as it were?”</p><p>His mother sighed. “You need to give it time, Niklaus.” She said, drawing closer, her smile reassuring. “I’ve had a thousand years on the other side to be angry and to heal. I’m here to make sure this family does the same.”</p><p>Klaus frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I just don’t understand. I killed you and still you forgive me.”</p><p>Rebekah had sided with the Salvatores when she learned of the truth, plotting to kill him. Elijah, Kol and Finn had united against him, getting in a few good punches and kicks before their mother had finally arrived. They were his family, and not once did they consider how their mother had betrayed <em>him</em>, only how he had betrayed <em>her</em>. Betrayed <em> them</em>. As if he had killed her without purpose, a random act of evil by their monstrous bastard of a brother.</p><p>Because that was what he was to them. <em>A monster</em>.</p><p>Why didn’t his mother believe the same? He had murdered her. Surely… surely that invited at least some outrage? Hatred? Disgust? But his mother just smiled, her entire demeanour warm and understanding.</p><p>“It’s been my dream for a thousand years that this family could be as one. Forgiveness is not a chore. It’s a gift.” She declared.</p><p>Klaus swallowed, overwhelmed by her acceptance, unable to meet her forgiving gaze. He didn’t want to believe it...didn’t want to hope. But his mother’s reassuring smile appeared sincere. Was it truly possible she wasn’t lying? That she meant every word? Klaus was unsure. But then wasn’t it a mother’s duty to love unconditionally?</p><p>His mother leaned closer, her tone turning teasing. “Now, who are you bringing to the ball tomorrow evening?” She asked, distracting him.</p><p>Klaus scoffed, trying not to think about golden hair and fierce eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He denied. “You’re lucky I’m even going.”</p><p>“Well, I wish you would reconsider.” She mused, lips quirking at the sides. “It’s going to be a <em>magical</em> evening.” His mother smiled, wide and warm, just as she lifted her hand and rested it against his cheek. Klaus closed his eyes, disguising it as a long, lazy blink as he leaned into her touch, suddenly remembering how much he had missed it. “Remember what I said, Niklaus. Give them time.”</p><p>Her hand fell away, and Klaus watched her leave the room, his chest a little lighter, his mind calmer. He would remain vigilant. But he would also take a leap of faith, let himself trust again. His mother wanted a second chance and he would give her one. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to believe she hated him, like Mikael had. It <em>wasn’t.</em></p><p>His mind drifted, thinking of light and beauty, the smell of a sweet-scented perfume and wildflower shampoo.</p><p>Klaus turned and left, ignoring the sound of his siblings resuming their snarky banter without him. He needed to make some inquiries, quickly. Klaus pulled out his phone, running through his contacts.</p><p>How long would it take for a seamstress to adjust a dress?</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow night then?” Sam clutched the phone to his ear as he opened the door, listening to the person on the other end. A soft smile adorned his face. “I love you too.”</p><p>Sam hung up the phone, taking it away from his ear as he looked down at the screen, typing a message.</p><p>“Who was that?” Klaus called from the centre of the room. Sam didn’t look up, unaware of his surroundings.</p><p>“Keira. I told her to stay away while I got to grips with my blood-sucking and wolfy biting tendencies - didn’t want her to get hurt. But I invited her to the Ball, if that’s ok.” Sam paused in his typing, frowning but still not looking up. “Not that I’m asking your permission. Call it retribution for forcing me to attend the damn thing.”</p><p>Klaus chuckled.</p><p>“She has a bone to pick with you, by the way.” Sam continued.</p><p>“Oh?” Klaus asked curiously.</p><p>Sam hummed. “Apparently you borrowed a few paintings from her collection decades ago and didn’t give them back. She promised them to the Italian mob, who was pissed when she couldn’t deliver, and tried to have her killed. Says she still can’t get the blood out of her dress. FYI, it was her favourite dress, Nik. She still whines to me about it.”</p><p>Klaus grumbled incoherently, some kind of material rustling in his hands. “Did she tell you she stole the paintings from me in the first place?”</p><p>“That’s not how she tells it.” Sam chortled as he took a few steps forward.</p><p>“Hmm. Fascinating.” Klaus drawled.</p><p>Sam turned his phone off, slipping it into his back pocket. “Right, your weird ex-relationship with my girlfriend aside, is there a reason you called me or-” Sam looked up, finally noticing the room’s contents.</p><p>It was clear the room’s usual purpose was just an extra space, seating near the windows for reading, a TV hanging on the wall, a desk in the corner. But now tall dressing mirrors had been wheeled in and shoved against the walls, along with two mannequins that stood in the centre. Several dress bags were sprawled across the couches and a woman was in the process of taking the dresses out and hanging them up on a mobile rail. Klaus was browsing through the ones already hung up, a concentrated furrow between his brows.</p><p>Sam blinked. “Ok, do you have some dress fetish I don’t know about or...?”</p><p>Klaus glared at him over the rail. “I need you to grab Rebekah. She tried to kill Elena last night, just tell her she owes me if she refuses to come.”</p><p>“So these aren’t for her? Huh.” Sam watched Klaus rake through the hangers, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Didn’t know you were planning on wearing a dress to the Ball...” Sam gave a mocking bow, grinning. “...<em>my lady</em>.”</p><p>Klaus snarled, grabbing a vase off the nearest table and throwing it at Sam. The hybrid dodged it, the ceramic shattering on impact with the wall, Sam laughing and running out of the room before Klaus could throw anything else.</p><p> He was still laughing when he finally found Rebekah.</p><p>She and Kol were sitting in the kitchen, various foods spread out on the table between them, catching up on tastes and delicacies they had missed. Kol was obviously pestering his sister more than she was annoying him, but both of them seemed to be bonding over their shared time spent in a box - Kol for over a century, Rebekah for just shy of a hundred years. Kol was overjoyed by his discovery of ice cream, forgoing a bowl and just eating it out of the container as he showed Rebekah his new phone, questioning her on how to operate the device.</p><p>They looked up when they heard Sam chuckle to himself in the doorway. Kol’s back straightened, eyes narrowing. Rebekah didn’t look anymore friendly.</p><p>“You lost, hybrid?” Kol greeted coldly.</p><p>“Sorry.” Sam sniggered. “I’m not laughing at you two. I just… can’t get a joke out of my head.” He pulled his lips into a thin line, biting his cheek to hold back a smile. “Nik wants to see you, Rebekah.”</p><p>The two siblings shared a glance.</p><p>“Since when does our brother let people call him Nik?” Rebekah asked, tone suspicious.</p><p>Sam grinned. “Oh, he doesn’t. I just like to live dangerously.”</p><p>There was a pause, the two Originals stunned to silence, before Kol laughed, a sound of disbelief. “How are you not dead yet?”</p><p>Sam shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I’m very hard to kill.” He paused, contemplating the answer. “That, and without me, Nik wouldn’t have access to his vast amounts of wealth.”</p><p>Kol frowned. “Why?”</p><p>“I changed his bank account passwords when he wasn’t looking.” Sam explained, like it was nothing.</p><p>Rebekah’s eyebrow rose. “You’re a hybrid. He can compel you.”</p><p>“Not if I drink vervain every morning.”</p><p>Kol grinned wildly, looking like Christmas had come early. “I <em>like</em> this one.” He declared, waving his spoon at Sam, before shoving it inside his mouth and eating the ice cream on the silver.</p><p>Rebekah huffed, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“So, Rebekah.” Sam pushed off from the doorframe, walking towards them, his attention on the female Original. “Coming?” He jerked his head in the direction of the door.</p><p>Rebekah smiled sharply at him. “Thanks, but I’m not a lapdog. Tell Nik I’m done following his orders.” She opened a magazine she had discarded on the table, pretending to read it. Sam wasn’t fooled.</p><p>“He said you would say that.” Sam mused, plucking the magazine out of her grip and throwing it over his shoulder, placing his elbows on the table and leaning on it. He continued talking before she could protest. “He also said that you tried to kill Elena last night and you owe him for such a traumatic experience.” Sam placed a hand on his heart, voice sarcastic. “He’s deeply heartbroken you know. He may <em>never</em> be the same again.”</p><p>“I don’t care about my brother’s delicate sensibilities. He can go rot in Hell for all I care.” She ground out.</p><p>Sam tilted his head in consideration. “Pretty sure he’s already done that, Missy. But an A* for effort though.”</p><p>Rebkah’s glare would have set Sam on fire if she could, such was the intensity of her hatred. Kol, however, seemed <em>delighted</em>.</p><p>“Oh, I like this one a <em>lot</em>, sister.” </p><p>Predictably, Rebekah ignored him.</p><p>“You have five seconds before I rip out your heart, hybrid.” She threatened, grinding out the words.</p><p>Sam didn’t back down, unafraid, steadily holding her gaze.</p><p>“You do that and Nik will be even more pissed with you.” He pointed out, expression morphing into a mischievous smile. “That, and you won’t ever find out why he asked <em>you</em>  for help. Mere hours after you tried to kill his precious doppelgänger - a feat that should have left you on the other end of his temper for at least a few more days, no?”</p><p>Rebekah’s eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not falling for that.”</p><p>“Well, I am.” Kol declared shamelessly, eyes on Sam. “What has made our dear brother so desperate to seek Bekah’s aid?”</p><p>Sam shrugged. “Not sure. I was too busy laughing at his face.” Both Kol and Rebekah gave him astonished looks. “Don’t look at me like that. You would too if you saw him browsing through ball gowns with such deep concentration.”</p><p>There were a few beats of silence. Then:</p><p>“Colour me intrigued.” Kol declared, his grin wider than humanly possible, leaning forward with childish eagerness. “Did he ask for me? I’d gladly take Rebekah’s place. What do you say, sister?”</p><p>“Bugger off, Kol.” Rebekah quickly got to her feet, the chair scraping across the floor in her haste, Sam’s expression smug. Despite never meeting the two siblings, it seemed he had judged them well - just like him, they’d jump at the chance to annoy the living daylights out of their brother. “He asked for my assistance, not yours. Right, hybrid?”</p><p>“It’s Sam.” The hybrid corrected with a frown, before turning his gaze back to Kol. “But yes, unfortunately if you turn up as well he may rip out my spleen. Or yours. He’s in a <em>mood</em>.”</p><p>Kol sighed, his face falling in disappointment. “Such a shame. All my blackmail against him is over a century old.”</p><p>“Well, I could send you pictures.” Sam pointed to Kol’s phone, forgotten on the table. “You can take photographs with those. If you give me your number I can send you them.”</p><p>Kol picked the device up, his interest suddenly returning. “With this thing? But it’s so small. Where does the camera fit?” He lifted the phone this way and that, examining it in wonder, as if he expected to find an 1800s Kodak somehow magically hidden in the machine.</p><p>“On the back.” Sam pointed to the lens. “You see the circular black thing? That’s the camera.”</p><p>Kol’s eyes were comically wide. “How fascinating. Humans truly are inventive aren’t they?”</p><p>Sam chuckled. “If you think that’s a marvel wait till you hear how they walked on the moon.”</p><p>“You’re kidding.” Rebekah deadpanned. Sam had the gall to look offended.</p><p>“I’m not. You can find a video of the landing on the internet. Happened in the 1960s.”</p><p>“Beks mentioned this internet. How do I access it?” Kol asked, gesturing to his phone, his eyes solely fixed on Sam, who was certainly a more patient teacher than Rebekah.</p><p>Sam slipped into the chair Rebekah had vacated, taking the phone from Kol’s hand. “Well, phones are turning into mini computes now. They have everything on there. The internet is that little icon there, see? Did Rebekah show you where the music is?”</p><p>“What, no! This thing can play music? Like a phonograph?”</p><p>“Er, yeah.” Sam began, uncertainly. “It’s this icon here, you can download whatever you like...” Sam continued on, explaining the various uses of the device patiently, pointing to the icons on the screen. Rebekah lasted five minutes before snapping, tired of waiting for Sam, the hybrid’s and Kol’s laughter grating her nerves.</p><p>“Alright, time to finish whatever weird boy bonding this is.” She grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. The hybrid released a yelp of surprise, taken off guard by the old vampire’s strength. “Where’s Nik?”</p><p>“No need to be rough.” Sam muttered, rubbing his neck. “I was going to show you.”</p><p>“And you’ll send me pictures, right hybrid?” Kol confirmed, leaning back in his chair, balancing it on one leg as he lifted his feet and dropped them to rest on the table. The ice cream container was in his hands again, the Original licking the spoon.</p><p>“If I get out alive.” Sam agreed, sending Kol a wink.</p><p>Kol guffawed, his laughter following them all the way out of the kitchen. Rebekah eyed Sam as they walked through the mansion, side by side, her expression thoughtful. Sam ignored her inquisitive gaze deliberately, knowing she would speak up eventually. He wasn’t disappointed.</p><p>“You’re not like any of the other hybrids.” She mused, breaking the silence.</p><p>“Oh really?” Sam drawled dryly. “How so?”</p><p>“Most of them talk about my brother either with blind devotion due to the sire bond, or outright fear. Yet you are neither afraid nor sickeningly vying for his praise, are you?”</p><p>Sam glanced at the female Original, raising an eyebrow. “And?”</p><p>“<em>And</em>, that makes you quite the conundrum, hybrid. No one has even joked about Nik’s tendency for violence like it’s something to be…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.</p><p>Sam stopped in the hallway, turning to her with a defensive frown on his face. “To be what?”</p><p>“To be fond of.” Rebekah declared determinedly. </p><p>Sam’s eyes narrowed. “I know, when he threatens me, he doesn’t mean it. Not once has he ever laid a hand on me. I joke about his violence because that is all it is - a threat made in jest.”</p><p>Rebekah scoffed. “If you believe that, you’ll end up dead within the week.”</p><p>Sam smiled, but this time there was a sharp edge to it that he knew unnerved the female vampire. “Or perhaps I’ve achieved something you haven’t achieved in centuries, Rebekah-" Sam leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Earned Klaus’ trust.” 

</p>
<p>Rebekah's expression hardened, and for a moment, no one broke the tension in the air. Then Sam brushed past her, continuing on. 

“He does love to tell me how you hate to be left out of things.” Sam called over his shoulder.</p><p>Her scowl would be forever engrained in his memory, as would the searing feeling of her glare on his back all the way to their destination. When they arrived, Sam stepped out of Rebekah’s way, bowing slightly with surprising manners. “After you.”</p><p>“Charming.” Rebekah sneered, moving towards the double doors.</p><p>Sam’s response was only to grin.</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>Klaus rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He watched the hybrids carrying boxes full of accessories and shoes into the room out of the corner of his eye, too busy keeping his gaze fixed on the landscape out the window. His stomach wouldn’t seem to settle. His body felt like it was rigged up to a live wire, full of restless energy.</p><p>Klaus Mikaelson - known as The Hybrid; The Beast; The Great Evil - was nervous.</p><p>He hadn’t admitted it to himself yet, of course. Probably never would. The fact was, ever since his mother had made her declaration of forgiveness, sparking that slither of hope in his chest, his confidence had soared for the first time in a while. Which led him here, consumed by a single idea born of said confidence and impulsiveness, which would probably be the death of him some day.</p><p>He intended to invite Caroline Forbes to the Ball.</p><p>The young baby vampire had intrigued him the night she was bitten. Her sharp tongue, her defiance - her beauty and light. She was fascinating, fascinating in a way that everyone else around her was not. He hadn’t met anyone like her since...well, since <em>Kiera</em>, and they had met over eight hundred years ago. But even so, that comparison wasn’t quite right either, because somehow, Caroline was…<em>more</em>.</p><p>So much more.</p><p>Klaus didn’t understand it. However, what he did know was he <em>needed</em> to talk to her again. <em>Needed</em> to get to know her. He felt drawn to her, partly out of curiosity, but also because of something else he couldn’t identify. </p><p>(His wolf’s emotions were very hard to decipher, partly because he refused to acknowledge that the wolf was involved in his decision at all).</p><p>At first, Klaus had contemplated asking her to the Ball in person, but had thrown that idea away quite quickly. There were too many variables (translation: too large a probability of rejection) and furthermore, it seemed slightly improper. His invitation needed to be more personal than a formal piece of paper, but also distanced, to avoid appearing too eager. It needed to be charming, to capture her attention, but not too bold, less he scare her away or worse, offend her. Moreover, he didn’t want the invitation to look like a demand, merely a request. It needed to appear to be her choice - adding that slight sense of aloofness on his side, while also protecting her. Hence, his decision to gift her a dress (not as large a statement as more jewellery - the bracelet was already enough, and was a token of his apology besides) to ensure she had something to wear, as it would be inconsiderate of him to think she could acquire something herself at such short notice - encouraging her to attend in the process. A personal note written by him on the invitation itself would also add a personal touch. Hopefully seeing her in a dress he picked out would just be an added bonus, which the possessive, wolfish side of him delighted in.</p><p>The seamstress grabbed his attention, asking about how much he intended to spend on materials and adjustments. Klaus waved her away, shortly ordering her not to worry about it. She nodded, the compulsion making her compliant.</p><p>Klaus frowned. What if the gift did offend the young vampire? Social norms had changed immensely over the recent decades, women becoming a force to be reckoned with. What was the movement called? Feminism? He remembered the days of the suffrage, and society had practically transformed since then, as had courting. Apparently, women could propose marriage themselves now, rather than waiting for the man, which was… strange to say the least.</p><p>Perhaps he was overthinking it.</p><p>He wasn’t courting her anyway. This was simply… an exploration of his curiosity.</p><p>Suddenly, the double doors swung open, and Klaus turned at the commotion, just in time to see his sister sweep in with her chin held high. She stopped almost immediately in her tracks, taking in the scene of dozens of dresses hung up on clothes rails, mirrors dotted around the room.</p><p>“Ah, Rebekah.” Klaus greeted, pulling away from the window. “I see Sam found you.” His eyes darted to the hybrid. “You were gone a long time.”</p><p>Sam shrugged, walking over and moving boxes containing shoes and accessories off the nearest sofa, before falling back on it, bouncing on the lush cushions. “I met your brother.”</p><p>“Elijah?”</p><p>“No, the fun one.”</p><p>Klaus scowled, turning to Rebekah, his gaze accusatory. “You introduced him to Kol? Really, Rebekah?”</p><p>“I wasn’t aware certain hybrids weren’t allowed near us. And I didn’t introduce him. He introduced himself.” She sent Sam a scowl, who grinned back at her shamelessly. Rebekah huffed in annoyance, returning her gaze back to Klaus and gesturing to the literal <em>boutique</em> that had been set up in the room. “Now, what the bloody hell is going on?!”</p><p>Klaus didn’t blink, used to her temper. “I need you to help me pick out a dress.”</p><p>“Why? Are you planning to wear one to mother’s ball?”</p><p>“I already asked him that.” Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. Klaus sent him a withering glare.</p><p>“No. <em>I’m not.</em>” He snarled, answering them.</p><p>“Then why the need for a dress? It’s certainly not for me.” Rebekah eyed him, cautious, as if expecting a trap. “Unless this is some weird form of new punishment where you buy me things. And besides, you know I’ve already bought mine.”</p><p>Klaus mumbled something incoherent.</p><p>“What?” Rebekah asked, not catching what he said.</p><p>“It’s a gift.” Klaus repeated, louder. He avoided his sister’s eyes, painfully aware of the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks and neck. “For someone.” He added, as if that made it any clearer.</p><p>Rebekah gaped at him.</p><p>To the side, Sam hid his smile behind his hand, watching the train wreck as it unfolded.</p><p>“A gift. For someone.” Rebekah repeated dumbly.</p><p>“Yes.” Klaus confirmed.</p><p>“Mother asked earlier if you were bringing anyone to the Ball… You said no.” Rebekah stated slowly, a question implied in her tone.</p><p>“...I did.”</p><p>“And now?” She prompted.</p><p>Klaus licked his lips nervously. “...I may have changed my mind.”</p><p>Rebekah blinked.</p><p>Then blinked again.</p><p>“Right.” Rebekah seemed to gather herself, breathing in deeply. “And what, you thought I would help you, why?” She snapped, that temper returning in full force.</p><p>Klaus moved to answer, his own eyes flashing angrily, but he never got the chance, Sam interrupting whatever threat he had been about spill.</p><p>“In exchange for tickets for the next Paris Fashion Week, you would generously help pick out a dress fit for a Queen.” Sam leaned back, resting his arms on the back of the sofa. He never took his eyes off Rebekah, but the tone he used to address Klaus was sharp. “<em>Right</em>, Nik?”</p><p>Klaus scowled, annoyed by the authoritive tone Sam was taking with him, but when he saw Rebekah’s expression, as if she was now considering the offer, he forced himself to bite his tongue. “Right.” He ground out.</p><p>Rebekah eyed them both. “Alright.” She agreed, shifting on her feet. “Deal. I’ll go along with your creepy gift giving. Who’s the girl? Have you got a picture?”</p><p>Klaus narrowed his eyes, tone defensive. “Why do you need to know?”</p><p>“Because I need to know what she looks like Nik. You’ll have to match the dress to the girl. What if the colour doesn’t match her complexion?” Rebekah pointed out, as if the fundamentals of style and make-up were obvious to the two boys in the room with her. “Bloody hell, you’re lucky I’m here. Otherwise, whoever you’re bringing to the ball would have looked like a tragedy.” She rolled her eyes, moving towards the rails. “Well?” She reminded, wanting an answer, Klaus remaining steadfast in his silence.</p><p>Sam smirked. “Yes, Nik. Who is this mystery girl who you made me scavenge a bracelet for?”</p><p>“He’s already given her a bracelet?” Rebekah exclaimed, head whipping to Sam.</p><p>“I know. Scandalous, isn’t it?” Sam waggled his eyebrows, his grin turning lecherous.</p><p>“Sam.” Klaus growled, glaring daggers.</p><p>“Yes?” Sam answered innocently.</p><p>“<em>Shut up.</em>”</p><p>Sam sighed. “Duly noted.”</p><p>“Nik.” Rebekah called, grabbing her brother’s attention once more. “Her name?” She pushed.</p><p>Klaus clenched his jaw, looking out the window. He had hoped to keep his interest in Caroline unknown, well aware his siblings could not be trusted at the current moment. But from the look on Rebekah’s face, Klaus knew she would refuse to help just to spite him. He couldn’t give her another excuse.</p><p>So he opened his mouth, and breathed her name like a prayer.</p><p>“<em>Caroline</em>.”</p><p>“Caroline?” Rebekah repeated, stunned. ”That blonde bitc-” She stopped short under her brother’s glare. “You know what, never mind. I guess I don’t need a picture then.” She turned back to the rail, browsing through the dresses.</p><p>“You know her?” Sam asked, curious.</p><p>“Unfortunately.” Rebekah muttered. “I’ll pick a few I think will suit her. How are you going to make sure it fits her though?” She asked, directing the question at Klaus over her shoulder.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Rebekah.” His sister raised an eyebrow. Klaus sighed. “I may have… compelled her previous seamstress to tell me her measurements.” A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips, his eyes on the floor. “Apparently she was Miss Mystic Falls.”</p><p>Sam coughed. “Stalker.”</p><p>Klaus glared at him.</p><p>Rebekah called the seamstress over, starting to hand dresses over. “Alright, this one… definitely not <em>that</em> one...maybe...uh, that’s a travesty - where did you find these Nik?”</p><p>“I asked for everything they had.”</p><p>“In the Salon?” Sam questioned.</p><p>Klaus frowned at him. “No. In Mystic Falls.”</p><p>Rebekah froze. She shook her head, before leaping back to life. “Of course you did.” She muttered, barely audible, before moving to the next rail, starting to look through them, the hangers screeching each time a dress was moved along. “Yes...no, <em>definitely</em> not, no…<em>oh</em>, I like this one. Can I keep it?” She turned around, holding the sparkling beaded purple dress to her body.</p><p>“Just find a dress Rebekah. Keep the rest for all I care.” Klaus growled, moving to pace the length of the room like a caged tiger, unnerved by the knowing look Sam was sending his way over the rim of his glass.</p><p>Rebekah huffed, pouting. “For someone who might get laid tonight because of what dress I choose, you’re awfully rude.”</p><p>Sam choked on the drink he had just lifted to his lips, half spluttering, half laughing. He opened his mouth, no doubt a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue, but Klaus flashed to stand in front of him, his expression deadly.</p><p>“Not. One. Word.” Klaus ground out.</p><p>Sam raised his hands, biting back a grin.</p><p>Rebekah sighed, glaring at the two of them. “Quiet, both of you. I need to concentrate.”</p><p>They waited while Rebekah browsed, Sam sat on the sofa, playing on his phone, while Klaus stood, every once in a while moving to pace the length of the room. Finally, after about half an hour, Rebekah declared she was finished, and ushered Klaus to inspect the five ball gowns she had narrowed the selection down to.</p><p>The first was very slim fitted, the material silky and reflective. The colour was also very bland, and Klaus was certain his sister had only chosen it to spite him, since he couldn’t understand how that was supposed to suit Caroline at all.</p><p>The second was better, a gentle yellow embroidered with lace around the bodice, the skirt long and flowing. It was innocent and youthful, just like her, which made Klaus wonder if Rebekah was subtly aiming another jab at the baby vampire. The third and fourth, red and pink respectively, were beautiful, but the red seemed too dark, and although the pink one twinkled in the light as if adorned by stars - due to thousands of silver sequins - it wasn’t her. The colour felt like Rebekah was stereotyping her again: cheerleader, popular, feminine. Caroline was more than that. She was strong and fierce, but also light.</p><p>Klaus stopped, staring at the fifth and final dress. It was a deep royal blue, the long skirt made up of numerous layers and shades, which would no doubt shimmer like a reflection on water when it was twirled. The bodice was adorned with an ornate pattern, silvery-grey in colour, jewels embroidered into the fabric and sparkling like starlight.</p><p>“This one?” Rebekah asked, snapping Klaus out of his reverie. She took the dress down for him from where it was hooked on the mirror.</p><p>“It’s perfect.” Klaus breathed.</p><p>Rebekah offered him the dress, and reverently, Klaus took it, first holding it out in front of him before pulling it closer to his body, viewing it from the side. From a certain angle, one could say it looked like he was wearing it.</p><p>Suddenly, the flash of a camera illuminated the room, the white light capturing the moment. Klaus stiffened, slowly turning his head. Sam sheepishly grinned from his position on the sofa, phone raised to take the picture.</p><p>Klaus handed the dress back to Rebekah, his movements deliberately unhurried, as if he was trying to stay in control. He raised a threatening finger at Sam.</p><p>“Delete that immediately.” </p><p>For a second no one moved. Then Sam’s fingers danced across the phone’s screen, raising the device higher just as Klaus lunged for it. In one fluid motion, Sam had leaped over the back of the sofa, holding the phone out of Klaus’ reach. </p><p>Sam’s grin was triumphant in the face of Klaus’ rage. “Too late. I already sent it to Kol.”</p><p>“I am going to <em>skin</em> you.” Klaus growled.</p><p>“Go ahead. I dare you.” Sam countered.</p><p>Klaus lunged, trying to grab him, but Sam dodged, spinning out of his reach. He sped out the room just as Klaus fell forward onto the sofa. The Original hybrid snarled in frustration, before leaping to his feet, rushing after Sam, hot on his heels.</p><p>Rebekah threw her hands in the air, exasperated with them both. “No need to thank me, Nik!” She shouted after them. </p><p>The room fell silent when Rebekah left in a fit. Laid out on the table, the sequins of the dress danced in the sunlight.</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>Caroline was loading the dishwasher when she heard the knock on the door.</p><p>Knowing her mom wasn’t expecting any deliveries, and Elena had said they’d meet at the Grill, not here, Caroline had no idea who it could be. Tentatively, she stepped into the hallway, frowning when she saw no one standing through the glass of the front door. </p><p>In a few strides, she had walked over, unlocking it and pulling the door wide open. She leaned out the threshold, looking left and right for any signs of the mystery knocker. As she did so, her foot kicked something on the floor. Startled, she leaned back, staring down.</p><p>There, sitting innocently on her porch, was a large dark box, sealed with an extravagant white bow. Tucked underneath the ribbon was an envelope, her name written in elegant calligraphy. Caroline’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, her eyes flicking back up, scanning the street for possible suspects. The only visible person was Mrs Danvers who lived two doors down, her frail form walking at a snail’s pace as she leaned on her walker across the road. She certainly hadn’t left the box and made it all the way down the street in such a short span of time. So, who had?</p><p>
  <em>Definitely weird.</em>
</p><p>Narrowing her eyes, Caroline leaned down, picking up the box. The recent murders in Mystic Falls rang through her thoughts loudly, along with the reminder that the entire Original family was now in residence. She shook the box, lifting it closer to her ear so she could listen, even if the movement was awkward due to its size. Nope. No ticking sounds. Thankfully not a bomb then. She frowned, debating what to do. In the end, her wonder and curiosity won out.</p><p>After closing the door with one last suspicious glance at the street, Caroline carried the box to her room, dropping it down on the bed. She picked the envelope up from where it was tucked underneath the ribbon, running her fingers over the letters of her name. So what if her name was written beautifully? It was just a font.</p><p>She turned it over, raising her eyebrows in surprise because it had a seal. A freakin’ <em>wax</em> seal. Who had sent this? The Queen of England? Intrigue spiked, Caroline tore open the envelope, revealing the invite inside.</p><p>
    <em>Please join the</em>
</p><p>
    <em>Mikaelson Family</em>
</p><p>
    <em>This Evening At Seven O’Clock</em>
</p><p>
    <em>For dancing, cocktails &amp; celebration.</em>
</p><p>Who on earth were the Mikaelsons? Expression scrunched up in confusion, Caroline flipped the invite over, hoping for more information. Her face slackened, momentarily stunned, at what she read.</p><p>
    <em>Save me a dance,</em>
</p><p>
    <em>Fondly, Klaus</em>
</p><p>Caroline stared, denying the way her heart fluttered slightly. She scoffed, throwing the invite onto her bed. “Seriously?” She exclaimed, incensed by his sheer… his sheer <em>audacity</em>. Like, presumptuous much? How did he know she was even going?</p><p>Her eyes drifted to the box, biting her lip. She shouldn’t look. He had bought her diamonds last time. <em>Literal</em> diamonds. She’d gone to get them appraised, hoping to find the sparkling jewels were cheap fakes so she could throw it back in his face. They weren’t. With the size of that box, she didn’t dare guess what could be in there.</p><p>…</p><p>A peek wouldn’t hurt, would it?</p><p>Carefully, Caroline pushed the ribbon aside, lifting the lid off the box. Inside was the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen, neatly folded to fit the box without creasing the fabric. She released a small breath of surprise, eyes wide as she stared down at the graceful shades of blue and shining jewelled sequins. Absently, she wondered if it would fit her, how she would look in it.</p><p>Shaking her head of blonde curls, she quickly slammed the lid back on the box. <em>No.</em> She was <em>not</em> going to a stupid Ball and she was certainly <em>not</em> encouraging whatever Cinderella fetish thing he had by wearing this beautiful, absolutely divine dress that had definitely cost more than her mom earned in a year, let alone a month…</p><p>Hours later, she ended up going to the Ball. And wearing the dress.</p><p>(Her mother told her she looked stunning before she left - it fit perfectly. She tried not to think about how he knew her measurements, the <em>creep</em>).</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>“Why did I have to wear a bow tie again? I hate bow ties.” Sam moaned, pulling on said bow tie for what was probably the tenth time. Klaus had stopped straightening it for him an hour ago.</p><p>“It’s called a tux, Sam. That is what you wear to an event like this.” Klaus drawled, sipping his champagne.</p><p>The Ball had officially begun. They stood around a high table in one of the receiving rooms that connected to the ballroom, hundreds of guests already mingling around them. The sound of chatter and laughter echoed around the space, building to a pleasant hum. Even more guests were still arriving, a new one or two passing through every now and then.</p><p>“Yes, well, not all of us grew up fed off silver spoons.” Sam sniped bitterly.</p><p>Klaus frowned, petulant. “I grew up in a hut. We didn’t even own metal cutlery. Everything was carved.”</p><p>Sam scoffed as he pulled out his phone from his trouser pocket. “Right, I forgot you were a fossil.”</p><p>Klaus glanced his way, sending him a glare. He eyed him as the hybrid clicked his phone on, scrolling through his messages.  “Did you deliver it?”</p><p>“Deliver what?” Klaus sent him a pointed glance when Sam looked up. “Oh, you mean <em>that</em>.” Sam nodded, realisation dawning. His eyes returned to his phone screen. “Yeah, dropped it on her doorstep, left before she saw me, just like you said.”</p><p>“Good.” Klaus paused, eyes flicking to Sam’s phone again. “Put that away.” He ordered.</p><p>Sam frowned at him. “Why?”</p><p>“It’s discourteous. This is a social event.”</p><p>“Look at you and your big words.” Sam teased, eyes still on his phone.</p><p>“<em>Sam.</em>” Klaus warned.</p><p>“Keira texted me, alright? She just arrived.” Sam quickly typed out a message before slipping the device back in his pocket, craning his neck around the heads of guests that hovered around them, clearly looking for her. “Where did all these people come from? Did you invite the entire town?”</p><p>Klaus shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Mother does love to socialise.” He drawled, sipping his drink.</p><p>“Either that or she knows how to plan a massacre.” Sam deadpanned. Klaus sent him a withering glare. Sam blinked. “What? I’m just saying – I don’t trust her. You shouldn’t either.”</p><p>“I never said I did.” Klaus ground out, eyes flashing dangerously, making Sam recoil slightly.</p><p>“Nik-“</p><p>“Ah, here she comes now.” Klaus declared before Sam could continue, nodding in Keira’s direction. Sam turned his head, catching the sight of her figure amongst the crowd.</p><p>She was a vision.</p><p>Her black high heels clicked across the floor as she strode towards them, a sway to her hips. One smooth leg appeared with each step from beneath the fabric of her slitted dress, her back bare due to the style. Intricately designed tattoos - appearing from the end of her spine all the way to the start of her neck – were on show for all to see because of it, swirling together in elegant patterns. She’d dyed her hair platinum blonde to compliment her smooth white dress, instead of the usual electric blue Sam was used to, the roots still their natural dark shade to match her eyebrows. It created a fade in colour from black to blonde that was most striking, all contained in her trademark pixie undercut hairstyle. Overall, she looked like a fierce Greek goddess, warrior-like beauty stunning Sam into silence.</p><p>“Isn’t she beautiful?” Sam breathed, the question directed at Klaus. The Original Hybrid didn’t answer. “Klaus?” Sam turned his head, confused by his friend’s silence - but also suspicious. The wolf inside Sam bristled at the thought that Klaus was as captivated as he was, eyes eating up his girlfriend’s body in a lustful way. Sam knew Klaus wouldn’t be the only one guilty of an inappropriate gaze - the entire room had hushed slightly at Keira’s arrival, men eying her hungrily while women looked on in envy, whispering about her as the female vampire passed. It was enough to send his wolf wild, demanding he make a claim, that he show everyone that she was <em>his</em>, and his alone.</p><p>But Klaus wasn’t looking at Kiera.</p><p>He wasn’t even looking in her <em>direction</em>.</p><p>His face had slackened, stunned to stillness, focused on something behind them. Sam’s frown deepened, turning fully around so he could follow Klaus’ gaze. There, stood in the open archway, looking almost lost in her uncertainty of where to go and clearly nervous amongst the throng of people, was a blonde girl. Vampire, if Sam was to guess, her heart rate slower than the rest of the mingling guests. She couldn’t be out of High School, her features youthful and bright with light. There was a soft beauty about her, and wearing such a radiant gown, the jewels shimmering in the light of the chandeliers, Sam could see how she had caught Klaus’ eye.</p><p>The <em>way</em> he was looking at her though? Sam couldn’t explain that. In fact, Sam was pretty sure he had never seen Klaus look at <em>anyone</em> like that. He could identify the awe in Klaus’ eyes, shock too, but there was also tenderness, and an expression that Sam couldn’t even <em>begin</em> to analyse. As if for Klaus, the ground beneath his feet had fallen away, and the heavens had opened up, he and the girl he wouldn’t take his eyes off the only things left in the void.</p><p>Slowly, a wide smile began to crawl across Sam’s face, his eyes flickering between Klaus and the girl. So, <em>this</em> was Caroline.</p><p><em>Interesting</em>.</p><p>Sam sipped his champagne, hiding his smirk. He turned back around, waiting for Keira as she drew closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Klaus absent-mindedly put down his drink on the table, stepping away, clearly intending to greet Caroline. It took all his will power not to utter a teasing <em><em>good luck</em></em>. Luckily, Keira’s arrival was enough to leave him speechless all over again.</p><p>“You look…” He swallowed, eyes trailing down her body. “You look stunning.” Sam said as he stepped forward, snaking an arm round her waist, pulling her close.</p><p>“Oh?” She asked, faking coyness, cocking her head as she looked up at him.</p><p>“Yes.” Sam declared, leaning down to kiss her. When he pulled away, Keira was burned by the heat in his gaze. “My beautiful mate.”</p><p>Keira smiled, linking her hands around his neck, their noses brushing, eyes connected as deeply as their souls. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sam Price.”</p><p>They both grinned at each other, before Keira pulled back, glancing over Sam’s shoulder. She frowned, searching the crowd for a familiar face. “Didn’t I see Klaus with you a minute ago?” She asked, her gaze turning suspicious. “Don’t tell me you threatened his manhood, Sam. I told you, our relationship was never serious. And it was centuries ago.”</p><p>Sam chuckled, still in a state of disbelief. “Trust me, I know.”</p><p>Keira raised an eyebrow. “You do?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Sam nodded his head in Klaus’ direction. “I’d say his head has been turned, don’t you?”</p><p>They watched as Klaus spoke with Caroline, the baby vampire rolling her eyes and brushing him off, striding past him with purpose. Klaus wasn’t deterred, his gaze following her as she swept through the crowd, that same <em>look</em> on his face.</p><p>Sam looked down at Keira to see her reaction, observing the way her own eyes widened slightly with shock, before they narrowed, her expression forced into a blank slate. She turned to him, eyes sparking with determined fire.</p><p>“Tell me everything. <em>Immediately.</em>” She demanded.</p><p>Sam laughed and pulled her in so he could kiss her again.</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>“Welcome. Thank you for joining us.”</p><p>Esther walked down the stairs as Elijah spoke, surveying the crowd, the twinkling lights adorning the banister complimenting her own elegance. Her youngest son, Kol, turned to greet her as she came to a standstill, and she offered him a small smile.</p><p>“You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, its tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance.” Elijah continued, gesturing towards her and she acknowledged him, bowing her head slightly with a smile before turning her gaze back to the crowd. Her eyes found Miss Gilbert easily, and as Elijah spoke, Ester locked her gaze with the young girl’s, an unspoken communication occurring between them. She needed the doppelgänger if she was going to fulfil her goal, needed her trust. Tonight would need a subtle touch to achieve it.</p><p>“Tonight’s pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could find yourselves a partner. Please join us in the ballroom.”</p><p>The room erupted into chatter and excitement, the guests eagerly beginning to move to find a partner. Her children began to descend the stairs, mostly likely with the same goal, and Esther turned, intending to return upstairs and wait for the doppelgänger.</p><p>She barely made it up one step before she stopped dead in her tracks.</p><p>There, standing silently among the guests towards the back, was a man she had thought to be lost forever. His grey eyes found her wide orbs as he sipped the last of his champagne, handing the empty glass to a passing waiter once he was finished. Inside her head, Esther began to deny what she was seeing, trying to rationally come to a conclusion for such an illusion. Perhaps the man just looked like him – but no, it couldn’t be, he looked identical. Perhaps he was a ghost, some kind of phantom – but the guests clearly saw him too, making room for him as they glided past, one guest even accidently bumping into him. The man brushed aside the apology that followed, too busy keeping his eyes on her.</p><p>She could only watch in shock as he moved, striding towards the foot of the staircase with that careful confidence she used to adore so much. His eyes never left hers, and Esther found she could not break away from his gaze even if she wanted to. Before she could even gather her wits, he had reached the staircase and placed one foot on the first step, holding out a hand for her to take. He was inviting her to dance.</p><p>Absently, she noticed her children - except for Klaus, he was distracted by a blonde girl, thank the ancestors - had seen what was occurring, as had those frightfully problematic Salvatore brothers who hung on the doppelgänger’s arms. She hesitated too long, more guests witnessing the scene he was causing. If she declined, ignored him and turned around, it would be awfully rude. Especially since Elijah had just spouted that utter nonsense about the dance being a tradition. But if she did accept the offer, it would raise far more questions from her children, questions she would rather not answer. From the look on her once-lover’s face, the cunning shine in his eyes, it was clear he had deliberately planned it that way.</p><p>Swallowing tightly, Esther gripped the banister and began to descend the stairs, her heart beating wildly. Once she reached the bottom, she paused slightly, before placing her hand in his. He smirked – dear god, how much Niklaus resembled him - lifting her hand gently and placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles, eyes locked with hers. She tried to ignore the shivers that travelled up her spine.</p><p>Feeling eyes on her in every direction, she allowed him to link her arm in the crook of his elbow and lead her to the ballroom. She could hear her erratic heartbeat in her ears, pounding against her skull. Questions shot through her mind at a rapid-fire pace, all unanswered, her thoughts dissolving into chaos. Despite her panic and disbelief, one thought rang true, the warmth of his arm undeniable in her grip.</p><p>Lycaon was alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. So tell me little wolf, do you wish to punish those who have wronged you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 6 dedicated to Folklore &amp; Fantasy AU week 2021</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The Black Forest, Germany, 1234</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The fire crackled and spat, dancing along the logs. Klaus rubbed his hands together, drawing closer to the fire’s warmth. He looked across the flames to where Kol was laid on the cave floor, wrapped in Klaus’ dried overcoat, sweat beading across his brow and still unconscious. Dark red stains dotted the fabric visible under the overcoat, worse around the bite marks. He had cleaned Kol’s wounds hours ago, doing the best he could with torn parts of his tunic and rainwater, but werewolf venom was potent in such a large dose and his actions did little in bringing comfort to Kol. Swallowing, Klaus turned his head, looking out towards the cave entrance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Black Wolf was sat with his back to him, ears twitching as he listened intently for any sign of danger, standing guard. Rain still poured down relentlessly just outside, but the wolf’s fur was finally beginning to dry, shielded as he was by the cave ceiling. The black pelt appeared warmer in the light of the fire, fading to grey around his muzzle, the only indication of his age. He seemed calmer, gentler even, just like the night all those years ago when Klaus was a young boy and this great big wolf let him ride him through the woods.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was no doubt in his mind that the creature before him was the same one he had met as a little boy - the wolf that he soon discovered had been his father all along. The familiarity was undeniable, despite being impossible. Frankly, Klaus was still in shock, which was probably half of the reason he had followed the wolf without question, letting him lead them to this very cave despite his history with trust issues. He’d spent most of the trek observing the wolf, watching how his father acted. Within minutes he had concluded something he had already suspected; that his father wasn’t like the other wolves.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The obvious distinction was the Black Wolf’s appearance – he seemed almost three times the size of a normal werewolf, as large as any horse, a fact he had noted before. However, his behaviour was so startlingly different Klaus couldn’t understand how he hadn’t seen it. There was a human intelligence behind his eyes and movements, a certain sense of cunning even, as if the wolf had not taken over his mind or primal instincts had overridden every rational thought. His father - the man, not the beast - was in perfect control, even though the eyes of a wolf stared back at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And although that fact should surprise him, Klaus was far more intrigued by how his father was still alive. Klaus still remembered walking into the werewolf village vividly, seeing the bodies; the women, the children. The stench of blood and death, the terrible carnage left behind by Mikael’s wrath. Klaus had found a man impaled on a stake in the centre of the settlement, unlike the other bodies which had been discarded mindlessly, forgotten and dropped to the ground. He had never seen his father in human form, only ever meeting the wolf, and when he had seen those vacant eyes that could have been like his own, depending on how the light hit them, Klaus had assumed the worst. His father was dead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was clear Mikael was sending a message, declaring to the world what would happen to those who dared touch his wife, but also revenge against Klaus for daring to be born in the first place.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But clearly Klaus had been mistaken, judging by the wolf that sat not ten feet away. He had never seen his father’s human form, which explained the misidentification, but that didn’t explain how Lycaon was still alive, over two hundred years later. The worst thing was, Klaus couldn’t even ask him because he didn’t speak bloody werewolf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At least, not anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus felt his chest twinge painfully, the absence of his wolf more inescapable than ever. A lone howl echoed through the night, piercing the silence. Klaus watched as his father tensed, rising slightly, those ears alert and twitching in the direction of the sound. After a few seconds the large wolf relaxed, seemingly deciding the werewolf was too far away to be a threat. Klaus scoffed quietly. He remembered the way the Black Wolf had torn those werewolves apart - he doubted any of them were a threat, regardless of how far away they were.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kol suddenly began to mumble, brows furrowing in pain and discomfort. Klaus quickly stood, moving round the fire to kneel beside his brother, faintly aware of the wolf’s head tilting slightly in Kol’s direction. He placed a hand on his younger brother’s forehead, feeling the furnace-like heat radiating off Kol’s skin. Elijah had developed a fever when he was bitten, weakened by hallucinations and insatiable bloodlust. No witch had been able to help him, resulting in a few beheadings on Klaus’ part. They had feared he would die – back then they were unsure if werewolf bites were as dangerous as white oak stakes and had avoided the wolves because of it. As soon as the fever broke though, Elijah recovered, much to their relief. With any luck, Kol would endure the same and would recover in a day or two.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A low rumble came from behind him, and Klaus turned, only to come face with the wolf. He froze. Despite his father not showing any inclination of aggression towards him, those eerie yellow eyes and deadly teeth, concealed behind his lips for now, were still too close for comfort. One quick movement and Klaus knew the wolf could have his neck in a fatal hold, one which would fucking hurt to temporarily die from. Distantly, Klaus recalled how Mikael had wrapped his hands around his neck when he was eleven, enraged that Klaus had spent the morning collecting flowers (a ‘girl’s errand’ according to Mikael) to use to make his paints instead of finishing his chores. The bruises had swelled, causing the simple act of talking to be painful even days afterward.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But his father wasn’t Mikael, and the wolf didn’t attack. His lupine eyes flickered down to Kol’s unconscious form, and slowly, he lowered his head, curiously inspecting Kol’s wounds with a twitch of his nose, sniffing out the venom. Klaus watched, uncertain about what to do. Another low rumble, almost a purr, vibrated through the wolf, his head rising to look at Klaus. It took a few moments for him to realise his father was probably asking him a question.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus frowned. “I..I don’t understand you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wolf didn’t move for a few moments, clearly contemplating that statement, but then it was leaning forward, mouth opening as it neared Klaus’ hand, looking like he was about to bite. Klaus flinched, yanking his hand out of reach. Their eyes met, and Klaus could have sworn he saw sadness there. The wolf’s ears lowered, another rumble, gentler this time, following. His head lowered again, slower so Klaus wasn’t startled, mouth moving towards the vampire’s hand. He stopped when Klaus flinched again, waiting for permission. Klaus didn’t understand what he was trying to do, but from the look in the wolf’s eyes, and the lack of aggressive behaviour, he had realised his father wasn’t trying to bite him, at least not in a way that caused harm. Unsure, he moved his hand closer to the wolf, silently giving him permission. To his surprise, his father didn’t grab his hand, but the sleeve of his tunic, gently pulling Klaus’ whole arm towards Kol. Confused, Klaus let the wolf tug him forward, dragging his wrist into position over Kol’s mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, it clicked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You want me to give Kol my blood.” Klaus realised. A pleased rumble answered him. Klaus shook his head, releasing a sigh. “It won’t heal him. It doesn’t work on werewolf bites.” He explained, pulling his hand away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wolf seemed to grow agitated at his response, nudging him, even grabbing his sleeve again and dragging it over to Kol. Klaus snarled, anger replacing his fear, using his free hand to push the wolf’s face away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop it! It won’t work. Werewolf bites kill any normal vampire - we have to wait for the venom to pass through his body.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wolf growled lightly, glaring at Klaus. The vampire in question glared back. When it became clear his father wasn’t backing down, Klaus sighed, frustrated. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt? The blood would certainly strengthen Kol, perhaps help him heal quicker?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine. I’ll try it, only to show you it doesn’t work.” Klaus ground out. The wolf sat down, clearly waiting for Klaus to make good on his word.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scowling at the wolf, Klaus leaned down, pulling Kol into his lap. He brought his wrist to his mouth, let his fangs drop, and bit down, tearing into his own skin. Before the wound could heal, he pushed the bleeding appendage against Kol’s lips, feeling when his younger brother gained enough awareness to drink the blood he was being offered, if more sluggish than usual. His eyes didn’t open, a clear indication of the severity of his state, but he did mumble incoherently, biting down weakly on Klaus’ wrist, causing said vampire to wince. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After around a minute Klaus pulled his wrist away, fully aware he may be unable to feed for several more days, what with being in the middle of a forest, at least a day’s ride from the nearest settlement. Klaus lowered Kol back to the floor, resettling the heavy overcoat over his brother’s shoulders, trying to cover the bite on Kol’s neck. And that was when he noticed it - the bite was healing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was slow at first, just the normal colour returning to the skin around the wound. Then the wound lost it’s infected look, the black and green discolouration receding, before finally knitting itself back together, the pierced skin closing back up. Klaus blinked, shocked to stillness. His blood… had worked?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But how? When Rebekah had given her blood to Elijah, trying to heal him, it had done little to help him. It gave him a little strength back, but it hadn’t… healed him. Not like this. Klaus brought a hand to his neck, suddenly recalling how the wolves had bitten him right there hours earlier, lethal teeth sinking into the juncture between his collarbone and neck. There wasn’t even a trace of the wound, the skin perfectly smooth, except for where the blood from the non-existent wound had dried, flaking away. His bite had healed, so quickly he had forgotten it had been there in the first place.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked down at his wrist, examining how a trail of blood dripped down his skin from where Kol had fed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His blood was the cure. How?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Looking for answers, his gaze met his father’s, whose lupine eyes shined knowingly. Somehow, the smugness in his expression was clear, despite said expression to be of the wolfish quality.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You knew. How did you know?” Klaus asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wolf didn’t answer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slowly, the wolf stood and turned around, returning to the cave entrance to stand guard. Klaus stared, watching the werewolf walk away. His eyes drifted down to Kol, who mumbled in his sleep, rolling over so his back was to Klaus, all traces of sickness gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thoughts running rampant, Klaus sat down on the other side of the fire, transfixed by the sight of his blood drying on his skin. Blood was everything to him. Blood was what made him a bastard, what gave him immortal life as a vampire. What linked him and his siblings together for eternity. But he never considered that perhaps <strong>his </strong>blood was something else entirely. Blood he inherited from his father.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked up, gaze locked on the silhouette of the black wolf’s form, sat not far away, the fur pelt illuminated by the firelight. In the distance, a werewolf howled, searching for them. His father lifted his mighty head, and answered in kind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Far away, the werewolf trying to find them fell silent.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>___________________________________________________________________</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wake up Nik, you lazy ass.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus jolted awake, woken abruptly from his slumber by a kick to his shin. He looked up, bracing for a fight, but relaxed when his eyes fell on Kol’s smug face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Kol?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His younger brother grinned. “Morning, sunshine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus scowled. Kol responded by throwing the overcoat he was carrying in Klaus’ face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks for the blanket, Nik. Though I think I got blood on it, just so you know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus floundered, tearing the coat from his face with a snarl. He opened his mouth to retort, but Kol had already turned his back on him, walking towards the cave’s entrance, stretching his arms over his head. Beams of sunlight broke through the trees, cascading down outside. The smell of fresh dew was heavy in the air, remnants of the rainfall from the night before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>The night before.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus scrambled to his feet, eyes scanning his surroundings for a furry outline. But the cave was empty, except for him and Kol, the fire having died long ago, the embers glowing softly. His father was gone. He had left him behind, without even saying goodbye.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You alright, Nik?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus whipped his head to Kol, who had turned around with a frown on his face. Klaus swallowed, forcing his expression into somewhat neutrality, hiding his internal turmoil and quickly mounting despair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine.” Klaus croaked, to his annoyance. He cleared his throat. “We better get moving. Elijah and Rebekah are most likely already waiting for us.” He told Kol, leaning down to pick up his overcoat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Right. How long was I out?” Kol asked, basking in the sunlight. “As long as Elijah was last time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Elijah had been incacipated for five days when he was bitten, and didn’t return to his full strength for another two days after that. Kol had healed in a matter of hours, thanks to his blood. From the ease of which he moved, Klaus doubted he was experiencing any after effects either.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Something like that.” Klaus answered vaguely. “Are you strong enough to travel?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kol shook his head, laughing slightly. “I feel great actually. Doesn’t even feel like I had a run in with those wolves.” Kol didn’t see Klaus grimace. “Though, Elijah wasn’t lying about how vivid the hallucinations were.” Kol rolled his shoulders as he walked over to Klaus, popping the joint as he worked out the stiffness in his limbs. “Could have sworn I saw a werewolf sleeping beside you at some point.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus froze.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Distantly, he recalled a comforting warmth at his back after he drifted off last night, something soft and thick curling protectively around his legs. Perhaps a tail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, there went his reasoning it had all been a dream.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What an amusing notion.” Klaus commented. From the confused look Kol sent him, he knew his smile was a little too tight around the edges. He walked past Kol, over to the cave’s entrance, standing on the edge of the ledge. He gestured to the ground below. “After you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Trying to keep an eye on me, are you?” Kol asked with a teasing grin as walked over. He laid a hand on his heart, exaggerating his surprise. “Nik, I didn’t realise you cared!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus rolled his eyes. “Just get a move on. Or next time the wolves won’t be the ones eating you - I <strong>will</strong>.” He threatened.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks, Nik, but I’m not one for incest.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A look of abject horror and disgust flooded Klaus’ features, causing Kol to laugh boisterously as he jumped down, landing on the forest floor below. Klaus followed, glaring at the back of his brother’s head.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are absolutely foul, Kol.” He growled, stalking past. Kol just laughed louder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They walked in silence for the most part, limited to normal human speed due to their unfamiliarity with the area. Kol asked a few questions about the werewolves, unable to remember much about what happened after he was bitten. Klaus told him they were dealt with. When Kol pushed further, wondering how Klaus had fought off so many, he told him the werewolves were torn apart. Kol shut up after that, assuming Klaus was the one that killed them all. Klaus didn’t correct him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was nearing midday, judging from the height of the sun, when Klaus became aware of something following them; of the feeling of eyes watching their every move. Kol seemed oblivious, ploughing through the trees and shrubbery loudly, swatting low branches out the way and tripping over logs with his clumsy feet, one of the few things that had stayed the same after he turned. Curses escaped his mouth every so often, grumbling incoherently, scaring every animal within a mile’s distance away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus ignored him, too focused on scanning the trees behind them, the foreboding feeling building. Every so often he picked up a snap of twig, or the rustling of leaves made by something big passing by - sounds that Kol mistakenly disregarded as being caused by himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was only when Kol’s tunic got caught in some brambles, releasing a roar of frustration as he flailed around - trouser leg getting caught in some sticky weed as a result - that Klaus finally found the pair of yellow eyes staring at them from the shadows, large ears twitching at the noise Kol was making.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father was following them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He hadn’t left, only retreated, probably once he noticed Kol waking. Left it up to Klaus to decide what to reveal to Kol, rather than take the choice away by staying in sight. Klaus swallowed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Serð mik!” Kol swore in their native tongue, hopping on one foot to get the plant stuck to his clothing and boots off of him. He snarled, bashing the creeping undergrowth away. “I am going to burn this forest to the ground and every bloody werewolf inside it!” Kol roared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus returned his gaze forward, determinedly not looking in the direction he knew the great wolf lurked. He strode past Kol, ignoring his younger brother’s tantrum and efforts to destroy the plant life that dared offend him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop fooling around, Kol.” Klaus reprimanded. “Elijah and Rebekah may need our aid.” He growled, a new sense of haste to his stride. Kol spat at the ground, before following Klaus, acting as if he had survived some great battle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A fair distance away, a deep rumble escaped the wolf’s throat, chuckling softly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>_________________________________________________________________</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was six days before Klaus was able to escape his siblings presence. When he and Kol had finally reunited with Elijah and Rebekah at their latest home, a small castle next to the fjord, the sun was setting. They were relieved to learn both their brother and sister hadn’t been bitten and had managed to escape the werewolves relatively unscathed, even if they had not. Elijah was thoughtful enough to have already compelled a few locals, offering them to Klaus and Kol as soon as they arrived, knowing they would be hungry. The two brothers devoured their meals quickly and carelessly as Rebekah helped Elijah load Finn’s coffin into their carriage, along with their essential belongings. Without a full moon, the werewolves could be easily dealt with, but Elijah had learned the wolves were working with the witches and rumour had it that Mikael had been alerted of their location. They had to run.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kol and Rebekah jumped in the carriage, driven by one of the few servants that had been left alive, while Elijah and Klaus mounted their horses, Elijah leading the way. Klaus trailed behind, covering their backs, eyes on the trees. Every so often the horses would spook, neighing in protest, nervously shifting on their feet. Elijah nearly lost control of his great black stallion, Nero, more than once, the normally fearless beast acting skittish and pulling against the reins that held him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Woah, woah. What is wrong with you boy?” Elijah mumbled, patting the stallion’s neck, trying to comfort it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus didn’t dare look behind them, not risking the chance Elijah followed his gaze and noticed the yellow eyes watching them from a distance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their journey continued in much the same manner, Klaus catching glimpses of his father’s werewolf form and trying to not draw attention to said werewolf’s presence, often engaging in random conversation with his siblings in an effort to distract them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suffice to say, after day three, he was pretty sure his siblings believed he was plotting something nefarious, judging by the way Rebekah narrowed her eyes every time he came near. Kol had taken to loudly claiming the werewolves that had attacked them must have knocked him round the head. He didn’t even threaten Kol for that comment, so distracted as he was, which only fueled the fire. Even Elijah started sending him odd looks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He noticed his father would disappear occasionally, sometimes for hours, once even for a whole day, always returning to follow from a distance. Klaus suspected he was leaving to hunt, just as they stopped travellers they met on the way, draining them dry to feed and hiding the bodies afterwards. Despite his reasoning, every time he noticed his father’s absence he couldn’t stop the unease that stirred inside him. Anxious that he would leave, or worse, was for some reason working with Mikael and instead of following Klaus to protect him, was in fact reporting to Mikael the entire time. Or perhaps wasn’t his blood father at all; an impostor plotting his demise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Paranoia and doubt was always the greatest enemy of the mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On the sixth day, Klaus lost sight of his father again, the wolf still absent even when night fell - the first occurrence, since he had only vanished during the day before. Klaus decided they should set up camp, instead of travelling through the night, claiming they needed rest - which was obviously a lie since they hadn’t needed to sleep ever since their mother turned them into vampires, only ever doing so to starve off the boredom of an immortal life spent awake 24/7. However, although his siblings gave him suspicious looks, they didn’t protest, Elijah still struggling with Nero and claiming the horse needed a full night of rest, rather than a few rushed hours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hours later, Klaus was still awake, having claimed first watch while his siblings slept in their bed rolls around the fire, the blankets used more for comfort rather than warmth. They had no doubt put a fair distance between them and Mikael, if he indeed had been on their tail, but Mikael wasn’t the only enemy within the woods, bandits and mercenaries common in the area. They couldn’t be killed, but having your neck slit in your sleep wasn’t exactly a desired experience.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The dark encroached the land around him, inch by inch crawling closer to the fire as it weakened. Klaus grabbed another log off the floor, throwing it into the flames. They reared up, spitting and hissing in delight as they devoured the new meal. He scanned the trees as the glowing ash floated into the sky, freezing when he saw an outline of a man in the distance. Instinctively, his hand jumped to the pommel of his sheathed sword, even though he had no need for such a weapon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eyes stared at him from within the trees, but not the typical yellow kind. They were two discs of silver, the retina reflecting the moonlight, like how a flash from a camera or a beam from a headlight made an animal’s eyes glow. Apart from that, he appeared human, the eyes the only hint of the powerful creature hidden beneath the human skin. Then the figure moved slightly, shadow obscuring his face once more, the reflective glow in his eyes vanishing, as if it had never happened. Throughout the entire process, the man never looked away from Klaus, keeping their gazes locked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not a word was spoken.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man turned around, silently walking away, clearly expecting Klaus to follow. The vampire swallowed, rising to his feet and quickly moving towards Kol’s sleeping form.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Kol, wake up.” He whispered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kol mumbled something, pulling his blanket tighter around him. “Hmm...sn’t awake...go ‘ay Nik…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus glanced back at the trees, movements anxious. “<strong>Kol</strong>. Get. Up.” He ground out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...sleepin’...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Kol, get up and take watch. I need to collect more firewood.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kol groaned loudly. “Don’t need to stay warm. Forget the fire.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“<strong>Kol.</strong>”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine. I’m awake.” Kol snarled, throwing the blanket off his torso. He rose to his feet, expression thunderous. “Happy now-” Kol stopped short.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus was gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>__________________________________________________________________</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The moon hung low, reflecting off the river’s surface and illuminating the crystal-clear waters. Klaus approached the shoreline cautiously, eyes fixed on the human silhouette who stood metres away, hands shoved inside his overcoat pockets for warmth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus swallowed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Who are you?” He asked, suspicion in his eyes. His voice cut through the silence like a knife, the only sound except for the water trickling down the streams that broke away from the river.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The figure half turned to face him, and Klaus finally caught sight of the man’s facial features, so very like his own. “You really don’t recognise me, little wolf?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Little wolf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The familiarity of that phrase didn’t escape him. But Klaus didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to hope. His eyes raked down the man’s body, looking for a dent in whatever glamour or phantom magic this was. Instead, he caught sight of faded ink etched into the man’s skin, just peeking out from underneath his sleeve.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Moving on their own accord, Klaus felt his feet take a step forward, his hands reaching for the man’s arm. He didn’t resist, letting Klaus take it and roll up the sleeve. There he found a tattoo, an exact replica of the tattoo he had seen on every pack member Mikael had slaughtered all the years ago – three crescent moons, posited in the formation of a star.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Sigil of the North East Atlantic Pack.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It <strong>is</strong> you.” Klaus breathed, taking a step back. “How are you… how are you even alive?” The vampire narrowed his eyes, expecting some trick or manipulation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wouldn’t find any.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man – <strong>his father</strong> - laughed, but it was a sad sound, his smile bitter. “I’m afraid that’s a long story, son.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I have all night.” Klaus declared, a threatening note to his tone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon considered his son, unnerving Klaus with his lack of fear. “So it seems.” He agreed, humming. The werewolf turned his eyes back to the still waters. There was an ethereal feeling to the man, and Klaus was suddenly struck by the realisation he wasn’t the only immortal being present. “What do you want to know?” His father asked. “Or perhaps, where do you want to start?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus narrowed his eyes. “How about why you left me with Mikael?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The night you broke the curse?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No. As a child.”</em>
</p><p><em>Lycaon nodded, eyes travelling to the floor. “I didn’t know you were mine, at first. Your mother… she didn’t tell me.” He began. “When I realised, I didn’t confront her about it because I didn’t believe it to be fair on you - to take you away from your mother, your siblings. They were your family as much I was and with the delicate treaties between our peoples… you could only ever have one world or the other.” His father explained, releasing a sorrowful sigh. He pulled the ends of his coat tighter around him, defending himself against the cold night air.</em> <em>“I watched you grow up. Watched you laugh and smile, and it lessened the loss a little. But then I learned about Mikael; about what he did to <strong>you</strong>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Klaus tensed, surprised by the visceral hatred in Lycaon’s voice. His eyes flicked up, just in time to see his father’s eyes flash yellow, the wolf inside thrashing on the doors that caged him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I was enraged. I confronted your mother - I believe you were around five summers or so - and demanded she hand you over to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus felt his lips mould into a tight line. “She refused.”</em>
</p><p><em>Lycaon scoffed. “She did more than that. When she refused, I threatened to declare war to take you back. In response, she dared me to do it. Threw our entire relationship in the dirt at our feet, all the love and trust, and threatened to tell Mikael I had raped her. To tell you the same.” Klaus looked up when Lycaon fell quiet, watching as his father’s fists clenched at his sides. “She said Mikael would kill you before I even got the chance to save you, if he ever found out. I hated her for that. Hated her for turning my own fears against me.” His father laughed, but the sound was twisted and wrong, rotten deep inside.</em> <em>“I… I didn’t know what to do.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Lycaon swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid the devil himself would hear his sins.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, in the end… I did nothing.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked away, gritting his teeth. “Did you ever intend for me to find out?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I hoped.” His father admitted. “When you were old enough to understand. I tried to confront you alone, but as you grew older your mother placed boundary spells and other charms to keep me out. Eventually I couldn’t even get close to the village.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It made sense. Klaus remembered the days when he would sometimes catch a glimpse of yellow eyes watching him from the woods, or when leaves would rustle not far away, the perpetrator already gone. He also remembered how those sightings lessened as the years passed, reduced to nothing but memory.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I felt it when you died.” Lycaon continued, breaking Klaus from his reverie. “Our kind… once you come of age, you’re initiated into the pack to link you with the members. But before that, werewolves are already linked to those they share blood with. I felt your fear as Mikael slaughtered your siblings. Felt your pain when he thrust his sword through your stomach. Imagine my surprise when I saw you alive.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father paused, contemplating his next words.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My pack was afraid of what you were. Afraid of me too - the night your brother died… I killed my own wolves to protect you. Sons and daughters of my trusted betas. The night you triggered the curse, they rose up against me. That was why I wasn’t there, for when you turned.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus frowned. “And why you barely got there in time when mother…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When his mother bound his werewolf side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, Niklaus.” His father apologised, eyes closed in emotional pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t.” Klaus warned, though it was closer to a plead. “You tried to stop her. That’s more than anyone else did.” He declared, voice cold and bitter. His anger rose, igniting in his chest, and suddenly he was turning to face his father, lips curling into a ferocious snarl. “I’m tired of your games, old man. How are you alive? I found your body – or at least, what I thought was <strong>you</strong>.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That terrible night still haunted his dreams, replaying against his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. The stench of blood and flesh. The bodies – so many bodies – strewn throughout the village. And not just the men, but the women and children too, those who hadn’t even triggered the wolf curse yet. Their throats had been torn apart and their bodies ravaged to ribbons, none surviving Mikael’s wrath. And there, in the centre of the settlement, was a werewolf impaled on a stake, his blood still dripping down the wood even if his eyes stared blankly at the ground.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I <strong>mourned</strong> you.” Klaus growled. “And yet here you stand. Not a day older, I’d guess, even though centuries have passed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon nodded, a solemn expression on his face, understanding of his son’s rage. “The werewolf you found was called Ansel.” He patiently explained. “When I and your mother would…meet, it was under the guise that she was picking herbs and flowers only found on our territory. Ansel would pick the herbs for her, knowing the land well, while we…” His father trailed off, wincing slightly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus glared at him. “I don’t need the details.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A small, sad smile touched the corners of Lycaon’s cheeks. “Suffice to say, Mikael must have seen her with Ansel once and wrongly assumed he was your father. He was loyal, one of the few that refused to drive me away. He wouldn’t have corrected Mikael of his mistake.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That doesn’t explain how you are still alive.” Klaus pointed out, his gaze still distrustful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know how.” Lycaon answered bluntly. Klaus sent him a disbelieving glare. His father didn’t back down. “I don’t, Niklaus. It is a mystery I have…yet to solve.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You cannot expect me to believe that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I’m afraid it will have to suffice.” His father replied, equally testy. “My best guess is your mother, whether unconsciously or not, somehow affected me with the immortality spell she used on you and your siblings. I bleed and take the same amount of time to heal as I did before. I have no thirst for blood, yet I do not age and I don’t get sick. I suspect I cannot die of natural causes, but whether I can be killed is something I don’t want to test.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus narrowed his eyes. “I can rectify that. In fact, perhaps we should test it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon’s face froze, eyes hardening. “If you want to kill me, Niklaus, then do it.” He ground out. “If you truly want me dead, then by all means end it. I know I have failed you. I accept that. But I’m here now, if you’ll have me.” He declared with passion, making Klaus’ features soften. “If not, then go ahead. I’ve lived a long life, mostly that of death and grief. I am not afraid of what awaits me on the other side.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus looked away, clenching his jaw, beating down his anger and even deeper, ignoring the self-loathing bubbling in his gut. Lycaon made no attempt to regain his son’s favour, neither afraid or intimidated by the vampire.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Distantly, Klaus realised he enjoyed having someone to look up to – no, be equal to – after so long along, always something other, even to his siblings.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where were you?” Klaus asked eventually, breaking the tense silence. “All these years – where have you been?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Trying to find you.” Lycaon answered quickly. “I chased Mikael off, only to return to your village to find you and your siblings gone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus met his father’s eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You found me after all this time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon didn’t break away from his gaze.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course. I never stopped looking.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus swallowed, unable to look away from the sheer magnitude of emotion that shone in his father’s eyes, and no doubt was visible in his own. In that moment, something lifted between them, dismantling the distrust and wariness built by so long apart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And now you have found me, what’s your plan? What do you intend to do next?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus watched as his father’s mouth curled into a smirk, eyes alight with promise. “Well, Mikael will need to be dealt with. Though I was more interested in asking if you still have your mother’s grimoires.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why? What do you need them for?” Klaus asked, a confused furrow to his brows.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lycaon’s eyes twinkled with amusement. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re the son of a witch, you tell me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus frowned, thinking. After a second, realisation dawned on his face, expression morphing with shock.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You think you can break my curse.” He breathed. He met Lycaon’s eyes with his own. “Release my wolf.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father moved closer, his voice lowering with the gravity of his words. “A spell is like a lock. And every lock has a key. If we know the exact ingredients your mother used to bind your wolf - the <strong>exact</strong> spell she cast - we can break it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus’ eyes widened, mind racing. His chest constricted, hope truly rising for the first time since before he turned. But his father didn’t pause long.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, tell me, little wolf,” Lycaon continued, “do you wish to punish those that have wronged you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Klaus’ lips widened into a wolfish grin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where do we begin?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>___________________________________________________________________</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mystic Falls, 2010</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Present</em>
</p><p>“Did you deliver it?”</p><p>“Deliver what?” Sam asked, eyes on his phone.</p><p>Klaus felt the need to take a deep breath, such was his annoyance, but restrained himself. All the fancily dressed blood bags chatting around them that his mother had invited to her extravagant Ball certainly wasn’t helping. He sent Sam a pointed glance, the young hybrid catching it when he looked up. </p><p>“Oh, you mean <em>that</em>.” Sam nodded, realisation dawning. His eyes returned to his phone screen. “Yeah, dropped it on her doorstep, left before she saw me, just like you said.”</p><p>“Good.” Klaus paused, eyes flicking to Sam’s phone again. “Put that away.” He ordered.</p><p>Sam frowned at him. “Why?”</p><p>“It’s discourteous. This is a social event.”</p><p>“Look at you and your big words.” Sam teased, eyes still on his phone.</p><p>“<em>Sam.</em>” Klaus warned.</p><p>“Keira texted me, alright? She just arrived.” Sam quickly typed out a message before slipping the device back in his pocket, craning his neck around the heads of guests that hovered around them, clearly looking for her. “Where did all these people come from? Did you invite the entire town?”</p><p>Klaus shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Mother does love to socialise.” He drawled, sipping his drink.</p><p>“Either that or she knows how to plan a massacre.” Sam deadpanned. Klaus sent him a withering glare. Sam blinked. “What? I’m just saying – I don’t trust her. You shouldn’t either.”</p><p>“I never said I did.” Klaus ground out, highly aware of his own doubts, making Sam recoil slightly.</p><p>“Nik-“ The young hybrid began, pity in his eyes.</p><p>Klaus hated that look. Elijah had given him that look for the last thousand years; had practically<em> invented </em>that look. Like all he was to him was a tragedy.</p><p>He <em>was not</em> a tragedy. And he certainly <em>was not </em>broken.</p><p>He was Klaus Mikaelson. The Hybrid, The Big Bad Wolf. The thing men feared in the darkest hours of the night, a creature of ruthless violence and pure evil.</p><p>And if <em>you don’t stop looking at me like that, Sam, I will break you with my bloodstained teeth.</em></p><p>“Ah, here she comes now.” Klaus declared before Sam could continue, cutting him off and nodding in Keira’s direction. Sam turned his head, catching the sight of her figure walking towards them.</p><p>Klaus didn’t keep his eyes on Kiera for long, not surprised by the beauty of the old vampire. Instead, he observed Sam’s expression, rolling his eyes at the literal open-mouth goldfish impression Sam was unknowingly making. He shook his head and averted his gaze, scanning the room.</p><p>A flash of a golden halo, a glimpse of an ethereal figure-</p><p>And suddenly, Sam wasn’t the only one slack jawed.</p><p>Inside his chest, Klaus felt his lungs expand for the first time in centuries, the unconscious movement of breathing once thought long lost suddenly remembered. Klaus stared, his heart jumping slightly, as Caroline stepped into the room. She looked around, seeming uncertain amongst the throng of guests, before straightening her back and breathing in a confidence that Klaus admired. And that’s when it struck him - she had worn the dress. Which looked stunning, he had to admit, just as Rebekah said it would. With its exquisite jewelled bodice and layered gown, a magnificent shade of blue that complimented the wearer’s complexion, it was fit for a princess, even a queen.</p><p>But it had nothing on Caroline.</p><p>The wolf inside him whined, urging him to approach her, to move, to do <em>something you idiot</em>. </p><p>Caroline smiled at a guest that greeted her, before her eyes flickered his way and finally, <em>finally</em>, their gazes met. Klaus bathed in the glow of her light for the second it lasted, before she averted her gaze, pretending indifference as she strode towards him. Mindlessly, Klaus placed his champagne glass on the table, abandoning Sam, his feet moving of their own accord. Within seconds, he had met her halfway, determinedly keeping his eyes fixed on her face because if he didn’t, he knew they would linger too long elsewhere, enthralled by every inch of her. </p><p>He smiled, amused by the way she looked at him nervously as he approached. “Good Evening.”</p><p>Over his long life, the few he had sought the attention of had broken under that charming smile. But as usual, Caroline existed to shatter all his expectations, soaring high above him while he was chained down to the earth, forced to crane his neck to catch a sight of her. </p><p>“I need a drink.”</p><p>She brushed past him, and Klaus moved out of her way, letting her go, that surprised, almost fond, smile - but by no means offended as he should be - still fixed on his face. His gaze remained on her, watching as she weaved through the crowd and disappeared from sight.</p><p>The wolf made a content sound, her scent still lingering in the air around them, satisfied. For now.</p><p>“Brother!”</p><p>Klaus flinched as Kol slapped him on the back, unaware the original had approached from behind. He turned, lips twisting into a snarl, but Kol remained unruffled.</p><p>“Been looking for you ever since you disappeared with your little hybrid.” Kol said with a grin, causing Klaus to scowl. “Which reminds me, is there a reason I see him cozying up to your girl?” Klaus ignored him, stepping around him. Kol jumped to block his path, leaning forward conspiritationly. “Shall I rip his head off? Personally, I quite like him, but after the lecture you gave me - correction, the neck snapping  and proclamation of,” Kol scrunched up his face into mock seriousness, imitating his brother’s voice, “‘touch her again and I’ll tear out your spine’ - when I sought her affections, I assumed she was off limits. Clearly I was mistaken about the promise to the threat-”</p><p>“What are you bloody talking about Kol?” Klaus cut him off, annoyed.</p><p>“Keira. Keira Deucain.” Kol raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed she’s here.”</p><p>Klaus sent him a glare. “She’s not <em>my</em> girl, Kol.” He growled, trying to step around him once more.</p><p>Kol blocked his path. Again. “No, she <em>was</em> your girl. But not anymore, apparently.” Kol mused, with a tilt of his head.</p><p>Klaus released a frustrated groan, physically shoving his brother to the side. “Look, do what you want. I have other more<em> important</em> things to do.” He ground out as he passed, heading in the direction Caroline left.</p><p>Kol finally listened, remaining where Klaus left him.</p><p>“Does this mean she’s free game?” He shouted after his brother.</p><p>Klaus muttered something profane under his breath.</p><p>_________________________________________________________________________</p><p>“Welcome. Thank you for joining us.”</p><p>Klaus stood with his siblings, behind Elijah on the staircase and between Kol and Rebekah, another glass of champagne in his hands, ready for a toast should his brother make one. He stood completely still, except for his eyes, which darted around the room, looking for <em>her</em>.</p><p>He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, and found her just as she stepped into the room, anxiously smoothing down her skirt.</p><p>“You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, its tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance.” Elijah continued, gesturing towards their mother, who acknowledged him, bowing her head slightly with a smile before turning her gaze back to the crowd. Klaus barely noticed, keeping his eyes on Caroline. She noticed him staring at her and locked eyes with him for a second, before averting her gaze, clearly unnerved about being the focus of his attention. Klaus smirked into his glass, raising it and taking a sip, keeping his gaze on her the entire time. Caroline blushed.</p><p>“Tonight’s pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could find yourselves a partner. Please join us in the ballroom.” Elijah declared finally, inviting everyone with a sweep of his arm. </p><p>The room erupted into chatter and excitement, the guests eagerly beginning to move to find a partner. Klaus descended the steps, watching as Caroline scanned the room, making a move towards the human boy - Matt, was it? - before abruptly freezing upon seeing Rebekah approach him, the two linking arms and walking together towards the ballroom. Klaus tried to hide his smirk, the outright betrayal crossing the baby vampire’s face highly amusing.</p><p>“Need a partner, love?” He asked from right behind her, so close she jumped at the sound of his voice.</p><p>She whirled round, Klaus catching the scent of her elderflower shampoo as the curled strands of hair swayed with her movements. His wolf whined, wanting to get <em>closer</em>, to get <em>lost</em> in her scent and bury its nose against her neck, breathing her in-</p><p>-<em>Wait</em>. </p><p>Klaus battled <em>that</em> urge away, confused slightly by it.</p><p>What was with his wolf today?</p><p>Caroline wasn’t suffering from such duality, seemingly incensed by his cheek. She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say a word, not yet. Klaus took that as encouragement. He lifted his hand, palm up, offering it to her. </p><p>“I recall I asked you to save me a dance?” </p><p>“Is that a demand? Because if you think I owe you anything, you’re mistaken.” She snapped, folding her arms across her chest, defiant.</p><p>“No. Simply a request.” He reassured her. Caroline remained unmoved, causing Klaus to sigh, his hand left hanging. “Come on, dance with me, Caroline.” He smiled sheepishly. “Please?”</p><p>He watched her swallow, eyeing his hand like it would bite her.</p><p>- <em>The wolf would never bite her, judging from the way it was practically wagging it’s bloody tail, that Klaus was sure of, which should worry him (his surety on the matter that is) but gods, she was stunning and he couldn’t really focus at the current moment</em> -</p><p>“Fine.” She agreed, finally placing her hand in his, not looking happy about it all.</p><p>Klaus grinned, so wide his cheeks hurt, squeezing her hand slightly. He pulled her towards him, and she let him, eyes still narrowed in suspicion, not that he cared. She had said <em>yes</em>, so what if she didn’t trust him?</p><p>Now, he had time to convince her she could.</p><p>Folding her arm in the crook of his elbow, Klaus led her to the ballroom, joining the other dancers. They moved into the starting position for the waltz, two lines of partnered dancers each other, one hand on her hip, the other locked with hers. </p><p>Not once did he take his eyes off her.</p><p>The waltz began, the dancers stepping forward in sync, Caroline on his arm. They turned, the two lines of dancers now facing each other, moving to intersect. Klaus observed the lines and curves of her face, trying to memorise every <em>angle</em>, every <em>imperfection</em>, utterly transfixed by every side of her. They pivoted on the spot, the dancers moulding into two parallel lines once more, and Klaus kept his eyes on her, his smile subtle and small. Caroline completely ignored him, acting as if she didn’t notice his gaze, and only after he twirled her, his right hand landing on her hip and her left on his shoulder, did she finally meet his eyes.</p><p>They sparkled like starlight, he noted.</p><p>Klaus led her in the steps, sweeping across the floor, surprised by how easily she kept up to his pace, elegantly dancing in his arms. He traced his thumb across the hand in his, the silk material of her gloves sliding underneath her skin. The silence lengthened, and the wolf inside preened at the proximity.</p><p>Klaus spoke first.</p><p>“I’m glad you came.”</p><p>Predictably, she brushed his comment aside, even if it was meant to be a compliment.</p><p>“Well, it was either caviar or sympathy casseroles.”</p><p>“I heard about your father-” Klaus began, but Caroline’s expression immediately closed off, cutting into his words.</p><p>“Don’t.” She warned, voice harsh. “Seriously.”</p><p>Her father was off limits. Duly noted.</p><p>“Very well.” Klaus agreed. “Onto more mannered subjects then,” his mouth stretched into a wide smirk, eyes trailing down her body appreciatively, “like how <em>ravishing</em> you look in that dress.”</p><p>“I didn’t really have time to shop.”</p><p>Klaus smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And the bracelet I gave you - what’s your excuse for wearing that?”</p><p>Caroline refused to look at him, and Klaus knew he had caught her there. Still, he could see the way her lips twitched at the corners, trying to smile, betraying her pretense of steadfast indifference.</p><p>“You know, you’re quite the dancer.” He continued.</p><p>“Well, I’ve had training.” She declared, raising her chin proudly, as if he was beneath her. Klaus smiled wider, struck by how adorable the little baby vampire was, determined to not let him intimidate her - <em>she wasn’t a fool you know, you’re not the only one who knows things</em>. “I happen to be Miss Mystic Falls.”</p><p>Klaus regarded her fondly.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Her eyes sought his, cheeks blushing slightly at what she found there before looking away. She huffed, reclaiming that false sense of indignation. “Like how you somehow know my measurements?” She sniped, regarding him suspiciously.</p><p>“Well, I couldn’t exactly gift you a dress you couldn’t wear, now could I?” He pointed out. She glared at him, her doubts clear on her face. Klaus saw the loud accusation in her eyes, and suddenly grew serious for a second. He never meant to anger her, nor imply a crass act on his part. “Don’t look so offended, love, my means were entirely innocent. This is a small town. I assure you your previous seamstress for the Mystic Falls pageant was happy to oblige my request.”</p><p>“You compelled my seamstress?” She asked, a trace of outrage colouring her voice.</p><p>“I had to find a dress almost as beautiful as you - it was quite the challenge. Certainly not a task I could complete alone.” Klaus explained patiently, his smile widening again when Caroline looked away, hiding a small, abashed smile. </p><p>Silence enveloped the two, Klaus magnetised by her, circling around her like how the earth circled the sun.</p><p>Caroline twirled in his arms, glancing over his shoulder as she did so. She frowned. “Who’s that dancing with your mother?”</p><p>Klaus turned his head at Caroline’s question, following her gaze, and the smile slid from his face.</p><p>How had he <em>not</em> noticed?</p><p>
  <em>Because you were too busy staring at her.</em>
</p><p>“Klaus?” She asked quietly, clearly unnerved by his abrupt change in demeanor.</p><p>Klaus swallowed. He turned away from the sight of the familiar man dancing with his mother, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Caroline’s hip, afraid he would hurt her. Around them, he was painstakingly aware of his siblings and the other vampires in the room listening in, having caught his reaction and waiting for his response. </p><p>Klaus avoided Caroline’s searching eyes, keeping his gaze on a fixed point over her shoulder.</p><p>“That, sweetheart,” He began, forcing himself to keep his voice level, “would be my father. My <em>biological</em> father.”</p><p>Several dancers away, he heard Elijah, his <em>constantly held together, prim and proper brother, Elijah</em>, trip over his own feet, stumbling mid dance. The human boy, Matt, if he remembered correctly, cried out, Rebekah stepping painfully on his toes. Finn forgot all pretenses of pretending <em>not </em>to listen in and openly <em>stared</em>, while Kol, face hilariously shocked, released several exclamations of profanity in their native tongue under his breath, a reaction that was mirrored by the eldest Salvatore.</p><p>“What?” Caroline breathed, eyes wide. Her gaze flickered to his parents, dancing in the centre of the room. “<em>Seriously?</em>”</p><p>Klaus moulded his lips into a thin line, expression suddenly dark. “<em>That</em> is exactly my reaction, love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Klaus is a lovesick puppy and anyone who believes otherwise can fight me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Are you here to kill me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Esther swallowed, her heart beating wildly in fear, no doubt heard clearly by her children. Her body was rigid in his arms as they drifted across the dance floor, his hands branding her skin with every meandering touch. She still couldn’t meet his eyes, even though she felt his gaze burn into her soul.</p>
<p>This hadn’t been a part of the plan. But it would have to be.</p>
<p>Esther clenched her jaw, hardening her expression. Then she looked up, finally locking with his gaze. When she spoke, the waver in her voice was the only thing that gave her away.</p>
<p>“Are you here to kill me?”</p>
<p>“What, no small talk?” Lycaon mocked cheerily. <em>Too</em> cheerily. “No, how are you Lycaon, nice to see you are alive, my love?”</p>
<p>“If I asked how you are standing here, alive, would you tell me?” She asked, glaring at him.</p>
<p>Lycaon seemed to ponder her question for a second, faking seriousness, before his expression once more returned to its teasing disposition. “No.”</p>
<p>“Then there is no need for such pleasantries, is there?” She declared, raising her chin hauntily. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. “I have to warn you, if you so much as lay a hand on me, my children will kill you in an instant.”</p>
<p>A fierce grin broke across his face. “Oh,<em> really?</em>”</p>
<p>She turned her head, meeting his eyes. “<em>Yes.</em>”</p>
<p>Lycaon’s grin widened, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “<em>All</em> of your children?” </p>
<p>Esther’s smile fell, picking up on his implied meaning. Her eyes flickered over to Klaus’ figure, dancing on the other side of the room with the blonde girl she had seen him with earlier. Suddenly, Lycaon twirled her, breaking her sightline of Klaus.</p>
<p>“Historically speaking, my dear, I’d like to point out he always did favour me over you. Best not to test where his loyalty truly lies, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Esther glared at him, wishing she could strike him dead. “What do you want, Lycaon?” She ground out.</p>
<p>“What do I want? The question, what is it you want, my dear?”</p>
<p>Caught off guard, she blinked, brows furrowing. “I don’t understa-”</p>
<p>In a second, the playful expression evaporated from Lycaon’s face, his lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve lied to me enough times I can spot it a mile off.”</p>
<p>She paused, dropping her own charade. “I want my family to be whole.” </p>
<p>Her once-lover laughed, the sound dark and twisted. “See, that’s <em>still </em>a lie.”</p>
<p>“Is it?” Esther countered. She smiled tightly. “Perhaps you are merely paranoid. It would make sense.” Her smile dropped, words hateful. “Niklaus must have got it from somewhere.”</p>
<p>In response, she felt his grip tighten on her waist, his tall figure looming over dangerously.</p>
<p>“Perhaps.” Lycaon mused darkly. “But that cruelty? That’s all you, my dear.”</p>
<p>“I am not cruel. Everything I have done, I have done to protect my children, my family.” She protested passionately.</p>
<p>Lycaon smirked. “Funny, that’s exactly what Niklaus would say to excuse him daggering his siblings.”</p>
<p>Esther scoffed.</p>
<p>“Is this what you came here for?” She demanded. “To insult me? Threaten me? After everything we shared, do you truly hate me that much?” She pleaded, hoping to find something, anything, in his gaze, that she could use.</p>
<p>She couldn’t allow him to ruin her plans.</p>
<p>However, Lycaon was no fool. Not anymore.</p>
<p>“You threatened to tell Mikael that I had raped you, when I learnt what that monster did to our son. How he beat him so hard he couldn’t even leave his bed some days. How you stood by and did <em>nothing</em>.” Lycaon said, his voice so brimming with rage, the tone was eerily flat. ”I assure you, my dear, my hatred for you is something you can’t even <em>comprehend</em>.” He snarled.</p>
<p>Esther’s breath hitched, his hand painfully tight around her hip. She looked up, right into his eyes.</p>
<p>They were glowing yellow.</p>
<p>And she thought, in that sudden moment of clarity, if death had a face, he would be wearing this one.</p>
<p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>“Stop frowning. Or your pretty face may freeze that way.” Keira warned.</p>
<p>Klaus’ jaw tightened, but otherwise he ignored her.</p>
<p>The dance partners had rotated not long ago, Caroline moving on to dance with the human boy while Keira, who had been dancing with Sam a few feet away, had spun into his arms. Despite not having seen her for years, they slipped into the comfortable familiarity they shared easily, as if they had never been apart in the first place. Other than Lycaon, she was perhaps one of the few supernaturals on earth he trusted implicitly.</p>
<p>And one of the few he let talk to him that way.</p>
<p>“Why is he even here?” Klaus growled, eyes remaining fixed on Lycaon even as they twirled and spun around the dance floor.</p>
<p>Keira raised an eyebrow, sending him an exasperated look. “Why do you think?”</p>
<p>“He’s not supposed to be here.” Klaus continued, dodging the question.</p>
<p>“Regardless, now isn’t exactly the time to whine about it.”</p>
<p>Klaus finally turned back to her. “I don’t <em>whine</em>.” He protested, indignant.</p>
<p>Keira scoffed, tilting her chin up. “Yes <em>you</em> do.”</p>
<p>“I <em>do not</em>.” He snarled, grip tightening on her waist.</p>
<p>“<em>Do too</em>.” She said in a sing-song voice.</p>
<p>“I don’t-” Klaus whined, only to recognise what he was doing. Keira smugly met his eyes. He glared. “Shut up.” He muttered, looking away to hide his smile.</p>
<p>She laughed, a loud beautiful sound.</p>
<p>“Oh, come now, Klaus. You ignore me all night and now I can’t even tease you?”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t ignoring you.” Klaus denied, while also not looking her in the eye.</p>
<p>She hummed, though her disbelief was clear. “Just avoiding Sam’s pheromones, then?”</p>
<p>Klaus nearly stopped dancing, head whipping to face her as his eyes narrowed. “How do you<em> even</em> know that?”</p>
<p>Klaus would never call himself all-knowing, especially when it came to werewolves. He knew at lot more than most in relation to traditions and rituals, thanks to his blood father, but when it came to knowing what it meant to<em> be</em> a werewolf, Klaus often drew a blank. His wolf had been caged for a millennia, forever restrained <em>just</em> out of reach. When he broke the curse, all his centuries of perfecting his restraint and control over his instincts were for nought, often feeling like he was learning to do everything all over again.</p>
<p>Obviously, there was the new strength, the new power held just beneath his fingertips. But being a wolf was more than that: emotions, particularly anger, were constantly ready to erupt and the pull of the moon called to him, even if he rejected it. Then there was his sense of smell, so acute and blinding in its newfound intensity that half the scents he was now noticing he had no idea what they were. When his hybrids had arrived, they adjusted more easily, used to the wolf side of their being. But his hybrids also brought scents with them that confused the hell out of him. Like one of the female hybrids, Sasha, who’s scent made him uncomfortable the minute he thought about anything untoward about her. It took him over a week to smother his pride and ask Sam about it.</p>
<p>Pheromones. That’s what Sam had called it. Chemicals that were produced by an individual to impact the behaviour of another. Somehow werewolves had evolved with this particular genetic trait, using it for socialisation and establishment of pack dynamics. There were many types of pheromones: danger, alpha, calm, arousal - even...<em>sex</em>.  Though not always, it was normally used by the males, who basically produced the chemicals to warn off rivals from their mates.</p>
<p>After learning Kiera was attending the dance, Klaus had prepared himself to leave her be, despite their history. He respected Sam too much not to. His relationship with Keira had never been serious anyways, certainly nothing like what he had had with Aurora or Tatia. However, he hadn’t been prepared for the stench of Sam’s pheromones enveloping her, warning him off and making him want to throw up when he got too close. It was ten times worse than with the female hybrid, because Keira was Sam’s<em> mate</em>, and clearly that made all the difference.</p>
<p>“I’m dating a werewolf, honey,” She said, patting his shoulder to pacify him as they swayed across the dance floor. “Who, might I add, is now one of your hybrids. I know a lot of things about your fluffy other halves. Honestly, you’d think you hybrids were strutting peacocks, rather than wolves.”</p>
<p>Klaus choked. “<em>Fluffy?!</em>” </p>
<p>Keira shrugged. “You’d be surprised how soft Sam’s fur is. I’m sure yours is no different.” She said in a matter of fact manner.</p>
<p>Klaus blinked, the wheels in his head experiencing minor difficulties computing that statement. “You’ve...you’ve been with Sam on a full moon?” He shook his head, dispelling the fog. His lips curled into a snarl. “Keira, are you mad? Were you bitten?” He held her further away so he could scan her body for injuries, her chosen gown hiding little.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, stepping closer again. “No, Klaus, of course not.”</p>
<p>Klaus wasn’t reassured.</p>
<p>“I’m going to rip out his liver.” He growled, eyes zeroing on Sam’s form, dancing with a guest a few feet away.</p>
<p>“Oh, stop it.” Keira snapped, slapping him lightly on the shoulder to gain back his attention.</p>
<p>“He could have<em> killed</em> you, Keira.”</p>
<p>She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m his mate, Klaus. He couldn’t lay a hand on me even if he tried, and neither can the wolf.”</p>
<p>“You’d bet your life on that?” Klaus asked.</p>
<p>“Yes. Again and again.” Keira replied without hesitation. “Got a problem with that?” She said, daring him to challenge her.</p>
<p>Klaus clenched his jaw. “If I did, you wouldn’t allow me to rectify it would you?” He grumbled, eyes fixed on her knowingly.</p>
<p>She narrowed her eyes. “No. And I’d make you regret trying.”</p>
<p>Irritated, Klaus sighed.</p>
<p>“I thought as much. Why haven’t I killed you, again?”</p>
<p>She leaned forward, bringing her mouth to his ear to answer as they swayed together. “Perhaps because I’m too fun to be around.” She whispered, voice lowered to a seductive timbre.</p>
<p>Klaus pulled back, practically recoiled actually, suddenly looking quite pale. Keira frowned.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>“Don’t do that again.” Klaus managed to gasp out.</p>
<p>“What? Why?” She asked, eyes flashing with concern.</p>
<p>Klaus closed his eyes, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “Those pheromones you mentioned?”</p>
<p>“Yes?” </p>
<p>“Well, they are an maddening pestilence, just as my memories of you are vexing, and if you say something like that in my ear again-” Klaus shivered, a full body tremor, “- the wolf may make me vomit.”</p>
<p>The concern vanished from Keira’s expression instantly, replaced with gleeful amusement. “Awww, am I making you uncomfortable Nik?” She teased, moving closer again, as if to kiss him.</p>
<p>Klaus glared at her. “I will <em>disembowel</em> you, Keira. Don’t test me.”</p>
<p>She chuckled, leaning back, but her hands remained looped around his neck. “Not if you’re too busy physically emptying your insides.”</p>
<p>Klaus scowled, but didn’t deny it.</p>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p>She smiled, fiddling with his white bow tie, straightening it.</p>
<p>“No, you don’t.” She whispered.</p>
<p>Their eyes met. Klaus caught her hand as she pulled away. He leant forward, placing a kiss on the smooth skin of her wrist. “No, I don’t.” He agreed.</p>
<p>Keira’s smile widened, Klaus’ expression softening in return.</p>
<p>“He’ll treat you well?” He asked her, referring to Sam.</p>
<p>“Certainly better than you.”</p>
<p>Klaus huffed a laugh, Keira’s smile letting him know she was joking. Partially, anyway. “Touché.” He allowed her.</p>
<p>“Well, I learnt from the very best.” She teased as he spun her. Klaus laughed again, louder this time, causing a few guests to look in their direction. Keira arrived back in his arms, the two of them comfortable in each other’s presence, Klaus smiling down at her. “Besides, a little birdie told me your head has been turned.” Kiera continued, inclining her head in the direction Caroline was dancing with Matt.</p>
<p>Klaus sighed. “She’s nothing. Merely a…” He licked his lips, trying to find the right words. “-distraction.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I saw.” Keira pointed out, her tone serious.</p>
<p>Klaus swallowed, unable to respond. Keira remained silent, waiting patiently for him to say something. He laughed nervously under her intense gaze, looking away. “It really doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Keira asked. When Klaus didn’t answer, she tried a different tactic, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I think she’s pretty.”</p>
<p>As predicted, Klaus raised his hackles.</p>
<p>“Pretty? <em>Pretty?!</em>”</p>
<p>“Well, yes.” Keira confirmed, faking indifference. She looked over at Caroline, eyeing the baby vampire up. “I mean the girl looks perfectly nice-”</p>
<p>“Caroline’s never looked <em>just</em> nice, Keira.” Klaus protested.</p>
<p>Keira turned back to face him. “Well, how would you describe her?” She challenged.</p>
<p>Klaus paused, considering. His eyes found Caroline, observing the way her smile was positively radiant under the golden light of the crystal chandeliers. “She looks like…” He began, voice softer than a caress. He swallowed. “She looks like...<em>art</em>. And art isn’t supposed to look nice; it’s supposed to make you <em>feel</em> something.”</p>
<p>Klaus kept his eyes on Caroline, but in his arms, Keira contemplated his answer, her gaze scrutinizing every inch of his tender expression.</p>
<p>“And do you?” She eventually asked, bringing his attention back to her.</p>
<p>“Do I what?”</p>
<p>“<em>Feel</em> something?”</p>
<p>Klaus clamped his mouth shut, his throat suddenly dry.</p>
<p>A knowing smile began to stretch across Keira’s face, her eyes shining. She leaned closer, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance as she whispered in his ear.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me, Big Bad.”</p>
<p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>“What are you doing?!” Caroline hissed as soon as she arrived in Matt’s arms. “Why are you here with the <em>She-Devil?</em>” Her gaze flicked to Rebecca, who was now dancing with Damon.</p>
<p>Matt glared down at her as their feet moved through the steps. “What was I supposed to say? <em>No?</em>” He said, slightly sarcastic. “And why the hell are you here with<em> Klaus</em>?”</p>
<p>Caroline clenched her jaw, looking away.</p>
<p>After all, <em>he had a point</em>.</p>
<p>She groaned in frustration. “Urgh. Don’t even get me started.” She growled out.</p>
<p>“That bad?” Matt commented, raising an eyebrow. Then his eyes narrowed, brows furrowing in concern. “He didn’t threaten you to come here, did he?”</p>
<p>Caroline sighed. “No, he just-” She broke off, huffing. Unbidden, her gaze drifted to the man that was causing her troubles.</p>
<p>Klaus was dancing with another woman now, that same charming smile fixed on his face. The woman herself was beautiful in every way Caroline wasn’t, her alluring features refined by maturity and experience, every step and sway of her long white gown elegant and controlled. She laughed at something Klaus said to her, and even that was stunning, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a lovely way while the sound itself chimed like birdsong, utterly bewitching. It certainly wasn’t like Caroline’s laugh, which she thought always sounds awkward to her own ears, or even downright embarrassing when she is reduced to hysterics, laughing so hard she snorts like some kind of suffocating piglet.</p>
<p>The woman leaned forward, almost nose to nose with Klaus, as if she was going to kiss him, and Caroline looked away, scoffing. Typical. At least it was clear she was right about Klaus’ character - distracted easily by a pretty face like any testosterone-filled male. Oh, she hated the hybrid asshole.</p>
<p>“Can we just talk about something else?” Her eyes met Matt’s, pleading for him to drop it. </p>
<p>He seemed uncertain, but complied to her wishes. “Yeah, sure.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, focusing on the steps of the dance. “I’d rather not talk about any Mikaelsons right now. Their egos are already larger than their heads, we don’t need to make it worse.”</p>
<p>Matt chuckled, smiling at her. “You’re right there.”</p>
<p>Caroline returned his grin, looking down at her feet when their gaze lingered too long, causing her to wince. Why was dancing with your ex always awkward? Seriously, why? Who decided that everyone should act weird after breaking up? Even if it was months ago? It was even more awkward than dancing with <em>Klaus</em>. </p>
<p>Matt cleared his throat. “So… where did you get the dress?” Matt asked, smiling nervously. “It looks absolutely stunning, Caroline.”</p>
<p>The baby vampire sighed, a scowl forming. Off to their left, Klaus laughed loudly at something the woman said, the timing <em>perfect</em>. As if he was finding her predicament amusing in that stupid way of his, where he flashed his dimples as that insufferable (but totally charming, dammit) smile mocked her.</p>
<p>Oh, yes, she definitely hated him.</p>
<p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>“I think your children are debating the best way to kill me without the guests noticing.” Lycaon commented, somehow amused by the threatening glares the original vampires around the room were sending him.</p>
<p>Esther scoffed, using the nervous reaction to hide her fear.</p>
<p>“You say that as if they’re not a threat.”</p>
<p>Lycaon smirked down at her, but didn’t answer, unnerving her immensely.</p>
<p>“I can’t stop them if they decide to take your head.” She warned seriously.</p>
<p>Lycaon raised an eyebrow. “Can’t or won’t?”</p>
<p>She looked away from him. “You never did answer my question.” She stated instead of answering, quickly changing the topic. “What do you want, Lycaon?”</p>
<p>He stared down at her for a few moments before he finally answered. “I want your confession.”</p>
<p>Esther eyed him in suspicion. “My confession?” She echoed.</p>
<p>“I know you, my dear. I know that all of this,” He inclined his head to the Ball commencing around them, “is just a front for whatever little cunning plan you’ve concocted this time.”</p>
<p>“So you want my confession of said plan and if you don’t like it, you’ll what? Kill me?” She mocked.</p>
<p>“To protect our son?” Lycaon asked. His gaze hardened. “Without hesitation.”</p>
<p>Esther inhaled a slow, rattling breath, her mind remembering every moment they had shared; every stolen kiss and secret rendezvous, foolishly thinking their time together in those woods would last forever, always playing a dangerous game. Because that was why they could never be - her, too loyal to Mikael and her children, and he, to loyal to his pack and Niklaus.</p>
<p>“Did you ever love me?” She asked quietly.</p>
<p>“With all my heart. More than you can possibly imagine.” Lycaon admitted softly. Esther snapped to meet his gaze. She swallowed nervously. “I would have protected you from Mikael, from the village.” He continued. “I would have even protected your children, even though they are not my blood. But you chose <em>him</em>.” Lycaon snarled, referring to Mikael. “You chose to allow him to hurt our son, and more than that, you hurt him too. Any love I felt for you, died the day Niklaus did, all those centuries ago.”</p>
<p>The music began to slow, the opening dances coming to an end. They stopped in the middle of the dance floor, though Lycaon’s hand gripped hers as tightly as shackles, his other hand ensnaring her waist.</p>
<p>“If you harm even <em>a hair</em> on my son’s head again, I will tear your heart out.” He threatened. Lycaon leaned forward, his mouth right beside her ear. “After all, it’s only <em>fair</em>, since you tore out mine.”</p>
<p>His words were delivered with such visceral promise, Esther did not doubt them. Her body tensed, the hairs on her neck standing up, aware of the predator in her presence, her mind overridden with such primal fear she couldn’t help but feel how her body shook, her breaths quickening with each second, panic rising in her.</p>
<p>And then Lycaon leaned back, away from her ear, away from her vulnerable neck, and <em>smiled</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, what big teeth he had.</em>
</p>
<p>“Remember, my dear, who Niklaus inherited his anger from. It can be ever so dangerous to unleash such a temper.”</p>
<p>And with that final threat, he turned and walked away.</p>
<p>“Lycaon-” Esther gasped, terrified tears finally falling. But it was too late.</p>
<p>He was already gone.</p>
<p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>Out the corner of his eye, Klaus noticed movement to their right, turning his head to see Lycaon striding out of the room, abandoning his mother - who appeared to be on the edge of a breakdown - on the dance floor. Klaus narrowed his eyes.</p>
<p>He stopped dancing, letting his hands fall from Kiera’s waist, and took a step forward. However, Keira noticed what had caught his attention and quickly stepped into his path.</p>
<p>“Leave it. I’ll go.”</p>
<p>“Keira-” Klaus started, but Keira interrupted him before he could argue.</p>
<p>“If you go, in your current state you’ll end up losing your temper and then suddenly we’ll have the two most powerful werewolves on the planet engaged in a pissing contest on the front lawn. Whatever will the guests think?”</p>
<p>“Technically I’m a hybrid, not a werewolf.” He deadpanned.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, curtsying slightly. “Oh, my apologies, <em>your grace</em>.” She half turned around, moving to leave.</p>
<p>“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Klaus called after her.</p>
<p>Keira pretended to think it over, sending a coy grin over her shoulder. “Sit. Stay. Maybe roll over?” She teased.</p>
<p>Klaus’ expression darkened. “You think you’re hilarious don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Honey,” She said sweetly, spreading her arms wide, “I know I am.” She winked, causing Klaus to shake his head, exasperated with her. “Stay here, I’ll deal with Lycaon.” She reassured him, turning fully around and disappearing into the crowd.</p>
<p>Klaus sighed.</p>
<p>“I need a drink.” He muttered to himself.</p>
<p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>Lycaon rested his elbows on the stone balcony, leaning forward as he took a deep rattling breath of the night air. It seemed finally seeing Esther again was taking a far greater toll on him than he first predicted, the wound from her betrayal bursting right open. He let himself take in the view, dozens of cars parked off to the side, as he reached in his trouser pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. An awful habit he knew, but one he hadn’t been able to break ever since the damn things started to be mass produced in the early 1900s. With one hand, he flipped open his silver lighter and raised it to the cigarette perched between his lips. The flame didn’t ignite on the first try, nor the second, and Lycaon muttered a curse, flicking the lighter once more.</p>
<p>And that’s when he heard his son’s voice.</p>
<p>Letting his hand drop, the lighter flicking shut, Lycaon turned his head. A fair distance away, down below, Klaus was standing near a horse and carriage talking to someone. The last time they had spoken was the night Mikael was killed. Lycaon had allowed him space, knowing he had to wait for Klaus to come to him this time. He had offered his son a pack, a home and a family. He had done all he could, and he had no control over Klaus deciding to turn the offer down, not believing he would belong with wolves - a reasonable fear, Lycaon knew, as Klaus was part vampire. He needed his own kind, people who understood not just who he was, but <em>what</em> he was. But Lycaon couldn’t condone what his son had done, slaughtering werewolves and essentially enslaving dozens of his new hybrids. Loyalty could not be forced, and if Klaus didn’t listen to Lycaon about that fact, then he would just have to learn it the hard way. </p>
<p>As a result, things were tense between them and Lycaon doubted his son would welcome him approaching. So he stayed where he was, high up on the balcony watching from above. He noticed Klaus was dressed in a handsome black tux, with a white waistcoat and bow tie, some kind of product keeping his curls tamed. For most people, the sight would not look out of place at such an extravagant Ball, but Lycaon knew that his son rarely showed such care to appear presentable, his ego as big as it was. Who was he trying to impress?</p>
<p>His question was answered a second later when Klaus moved closer to the horse, the person he was talking to moving with him, the carriage no longer obscuring her from Lycaon’s sightline. A blonde girl. Vampire, by the metallic scent he was catching in the wind. Lycaon’s eyes widened in recognition.</p>
<p>Caroline Forbes.</p>
<p>He vaguely remembered Klaus showing him a picture of her, back when they were preparing to break the curse. She was going to be the vampire sacrifice, a new baby vampire recently turned. He saw her the night Mikael was killed too, catching her staring right at him from one of the mansion’s windows. But that wasn’t why he stood up straighter, suddenly intent on watching the scene play out, and it also wasn’t the reason why he recognized her so easily.</p>
<p>But it  <em>was</em> the reason he remembered the night Niklaus had broken the curse so vividly.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Niklaus! Wait! NIKLAUS!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon yelled across the mental bond as he took chase, all four wolfish limbs burning with the effort, to little effect. Klaus was no longer listening, perhaps not even consciously aware, the wolf taking complete control. He was picking up speed, the vampire part of him making him faster than even Lycaon, moving through the forest as little more than a blur, clearly heading in a certain direction.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He had caught someone’s scent.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon mentally cursed, regretting letting them wander too close to town, misjudging how much control his son had over the wolf. It had been locked away for over a thousand years - of course it would be overwhelming on the night he broke the curse, dominant after so many years beaten down, caged and shackled. If he didn’t stop Niklaus, Mystic Falls could turn into a bloodbath.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Black Wolf snarled, pushing his limbs to move faster, leaping over fallen logs and smashing through bushes, eyes focused on his son’s wolf form running up ahead. Heart pumping, lungs heaving, yellow eyes gleaming as the moon fueled his every stride. The dark parted for them as they weaved through the trees, birds scattering from where they made their nest, air whizzing past their ears-</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Niklaus leaped up ahead, landing on a road, the treeline breaking. A car horn blared, deafening, as glaring headlights suddenly illuminated his form, the light reflecting off his retinas and turning them into twin discs of silver. He lunged, barely dodging the pickup truck in time as it swerved to avoid him, before continuing up the embankment on the other side of the road, disappearing from both the driver’s sight and his father’s. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon growled, cursing. How likely was it the driver believed he had just seen a bear? Or a very large cougar?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The driver slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a stop, tires screeching, several metres down the road. The silhouette of the driver’s frozen form could just be seen by the glare of the headlights, hands stiffly locked on the steering wheel. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Very unlikely then.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Unable to stop, Lycaon chased after his son, dashing across the road in hot pursuit. Hopefully the driver wasn’t traumatised. Or called the Sheriff’s department.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...He’d probably have to deal with him come dawn.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon leapt over roadside guardrail, sprinting up the embankment and back into the woods. Niklaus no longer in his sights, he followed his son’s scent instead, dashing through the trees and the few stray houses this far out. He frowned when he realised Niklaus wasn’t headed north, towards the centre of town but rather, east - towards the outskirts, where the residential areas were. Soon the trees parted again, replaced by roads and houses, streetlights chasing away the darkness. Lycaon skidded to a stop, head swerving in each direction, trying to catch sight of Niklaus. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A crash of clanging metal trash cans pierced the silence in the distance, followed by the screech of an irritated feline. Lycaon’s ears twitched, spinning to the sound. His lips curled into a snarl, and then he was off again, sticking to the shadows and twisting through the streets, staying hidden from the residents sleeping soundly in their beds. He caught Niklaus’ scent again, following it off the road and behind the houses, leaping over an eight foot wooden fence and into someone's garden. His yellow eyes narrowed, finding the knocked over trash, the metal lid still spinning. A cat hissed at him from it’s hidden position under the house’s back porch, Lycaon releasing a low growl in response that quickly shut the feline up. He scanned the area, looking for the direction Niklaus had gone. On the other side of the garden, the top of the fence had been jagged and splintered, as if something huge had jumped over it and clipped the top.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fucking perfect.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Suddenly, a light in the top window flicked on, bathing the garden in a soft glow despite the closed curtains.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Linda! It’s them raccoons again!” A male voice yelled.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“George, wait! What if it's a burglar!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon heard the cock of a shotgun from inside the house.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then they’ll regret ever stepping on my damn property!” The male bellowed, just as the back porch light flickered on.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon’s eyes widened, scrambling towards the other side of the garden. He leaped over the fence Niklaus had clipped on his way through just as the back door burst open.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Where are you, you filthy animals! I’ll kill you al-” The male voice trailed off, probably noticing the broken fence, knocked over trash cans and - oh yes, Lycaon realised, looking down at his paws hidden behind the fence - the giant paw prints embedded in the lawn. Shit. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“George? Is it the racoons?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Biggest fucking racoons I’ve ever seen.” Lycaon heard the man mutter to himself. The floorboards of the porch creaked as he stepped back towards the door. “LINDA! Get animal control on the phone!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wincing at the trouble that would cause, Lycaon carefully prowled across the garden, keeping his body low, knowing his large form could be seen over the fence if he didn’t. Only when he leaped into the next garden over did he finally relax. He picked up Niklaus’ scent again, following out the back of a garden and through another two properties on the other side (one of which had a fierce doberman chained to the doghouse, scaring the hell out of him for a second as it barked, the animal freezing when it realised what had actually stepped onto its territory), finally leaping over another fence and into another garden. A large tree overlooked the lawn of this one, the remnants of an old tree house winding its way around the top of the trunk, a swing hanging from its branches, green from the rain and passing years. If Lycaon concentrated, he could just make out the faded letters painted onto the wood, girlish love hearts and yellow flowers decorated around a single elegantly scribbled name:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Caroline.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon walked forward, furry brows furrowed slightly, turning away from the large tree and the child’s playhouse built into its canopy. The lights in the actual house were dark, curtains drawn, the inhabitants of the home no doubt fast asleep. And standing in the middle of the lawn, looking up at the window on the second floor, was Niklaus.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The moonlight shimmered across his thick grey and white coat, the wind rustling the pelt with each whisper. He was eerily still, his twitching nose and ears the only things moving, seemingly transfixed by that dark window. Lycaon frowned.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>What was his son’s wolf doing?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon came to a stop several steps behind Niklaus, looking between him and the house. Was the wolf intending to attack the inhabitants inside? But why this house, after passing through so many properties to get here? What had drawn the wolf to this particular spot?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Or, perhaps <strong>what </strong>wasn’t the question, but <strong>who</strong>?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To Lycaon’s surprise, his son’s wolf let out a long series of whines, lowering his ears in distress and shifting nervously on his feet. Then, suddenly, the wolf raised his head to the moon and released a pleading howl, deafening the silence of the night.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon’s eyes widened and he leapt forward, panicking, tackling his son to the ground and cutting off his howl. Niklaus snarled, snapping at his father, but Lycaon pushed him down, using his body weight to pin the younger wolf. He glanced back up at the house, internally sighing with relief when the windows stayed dark. His body relaxed so much his son managed to squirm underneath him, breaking his head free.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cue him howling again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cursing, Lycaon snarled, growling dangerously and pushing his mighty jaws closer to his son’s neck in threat, sending a command to stop over the mental bond they shared. Unable to disobey an alpha, Niklaus whined, the howl cutting off abruptly. His paws scrambled across the dirt, but gained no grip. Lycaon pushed him down harder, fear of being heard and discovered making him rougher than he normally would dare. Finally, Niklaus fell silent, whatever had come over him dissipating.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then the light in the second floor bedroom flicked on. Lycaon was the first to see it, but as soon as his son’s wolf followed his gaze, noticing the light, he started to desperately struggle to break free, whining loudly once more.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon was so shocked, never having encountered the behaviour from any werewolf ever before, that Niklaus almost broke free. Almost. Changing tactics and worryingly aware they were too exposed in the middle of the lawn, Lycaon gently grabbed the back of his son’s neck with his teeth, beginning to drag him backwards. Niklaus protested, whines growing louder every second, even trying to howl a third time, but Lycaon was firm and strong, pulling his son into the cover of the hedgerow with increasing urgency, checking the downstairs lights hadn’t turned on every few seconds. He pushed Niklaus to the ground, pinning him with his body just in time, as barely a moment later, the curtains behind the window were thrust apart and the wooden window slid open with a creaky groan.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon pushed his son’s snout further into the grass beneath them, warning him to be quiet with a dangerous growl. Then he turned his attention back to the open window.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A young woman, a teenager really, had her head stuck out in night air. Loose fitting pajamas hung comfortably from her body, brows furrowed in confusion as her blonde locks caressed her cheeks, fluttering in the wind. She bit her lip, looking nervous as she scanned her back garden, just missing them concealed in the shadows.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Beneath Lycaon’s paws, Niklaus released another whine, closer to a whimper. His glowing yellow eyes were locked on the girl, expression incredibly soft considering he was pinned down and should be aggressively fighting back right now. Oh, and there was one more thing that was certainly… irregular.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His tail was wagging.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon looked between him and the girl in utter bewilderment, dazed with awe. Niklaus shouldn’t be in control, overwhelmed with centuries of built up transformation magic and suppressed instincts. In fact, it was clear he wasn’t, because Lycaon knew for certain his son would be too proud to ever act like a...a…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Well.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The tail wagged on, thumping against the ground with a dull thud each time.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A puppy. The most powerful hybrid on the planet, descended from the first werewolves, blood of his blood, his sole heir and only son-</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Was reduced to acting like a bleeding <strong>puppy</strong>.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon couldn't do anything more than blink, slowly looking up at the girl at the window. He tilted his head in consideration, thoughts clicking into place.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She couldn’t be…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Niklaus whined, louder this time, probably wanting her to hear him. Lycaon growled, pressing his claws threateningly into the other wolf’s pelt. Niklaus quietened.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl checked both directions before releasing a huff, suspiciously eyeing the darkness. Then she pulled her head back inside, arms rising to pull the window down. The click of the window hatch echoed in the night, and Lycaon watched as she grabbed the edges of the curtains, eyeing the outside world one final time before she pulled them shut. Seconds later, the light flicked off, the girl assumingly returning to her bed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycaon released his hold on Niklaus, letting the young wolf scramble to his feet. He whined, stepping towards the house, ears drooping when the window remained dark, the curtains closed. His tail between his legs, the white wolf half-turned around, staring back at Lycaon’s form, releasing a high-pitched bark, as if he expected the older werewolf to fix his problem.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sighing, Lycaon stepped forward, nudging his son’s side, pushing him gently towards the fence.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Time to go, little wolf.” He said mentally.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Niklaus whined again, turning his yellow-eyed gaze back to the house, resisting. His sigh of exasperation deeper this time, Lycaon gently grabbed the scruff of his son’s furry neck with his teeth, leading him away. It worked, for about a second, because then Niklaus sat down, planting his weight, refusing to move as he stared up at Lycaon innocently.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Despite his annoyance, Lycaon resisted the urge to laugh at the childish display. His son may have been a thousand years old, but it seemed the wolf was still the same young pup it had been bound as, all those centuries ago.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Come, Niklaus.” Lycaon ordered this time, trying his hardest to maintain a stern expression. He growled slightly, low enough to be a warning, and when he nudged his son’s side the second time, he finally got up, letting Lycaon push him away.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He whined the entire time, mind, but still. Lycaon counted it as a victory.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When they reached the fence, he pushed against his son’s neck, trying to get him to turn his back on the house. Niklaus backed up, uneasy, but Lycaon kept pushing, trying a more reassuring approach to see if it would work, sending impressions and thoughts across the bond they shared.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She’ll be fine. She’s not alone. We’ll come back. It’s alright, little wolf. She’s <strong>safe</strong>.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Niklaus whined, long and low, head hanging almost to the floor. Lycaon nudged him once more, and finally, after one last glance at the girl’s window, the young wolf turned around and leaped over the fence. Lycaon sighed in relief, turning himself to glance behind him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The bedroom remained dark, the curtains closed, but even so, her scent still lingered in the air, carried by the wind. As did the rare pheromones that Niklaus had produced.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Rare pheromones, that is, that were only released upon finding a mate.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lycoan’s nose twitched, his eyes fixed on that dark window. Then, hearing his son’s disgruntled growls in the next property over, the Black Wolf spun, jumping over the fence without a backward glance.</em>
</p>
<p>Now, months later, Lycaon regarded the girl with the same interest he had that night. He watched as his son talked to her; observed the once-thought-lost tenderness in the hybrid’s gaze as he looked at her. And Lycaon smiled, scoffing slightly in disbelief, impressed by this girl and her brazen attitude as she resisted his son’s charms, challenging him.</p>
<p>Yes, <em>interesting</em> indeed.</p>
<p>Lycaon tilted his head, his body suddenly tensing, noticing the slow heartbeat of someone a few metres behind him, probably standing by the doors, hidden by the curtains. He didn’t turn around. Instead, Lycaon straightened his shoulders and squared his back, looking away from his son and the girl. He raised his lighter once more, trying to light his cigarette again, taking his time. He succeeded on the second try, the flame igniting and burning languidly, smoke billowing out of his lips when he breathed out.</p>
<p>“I know you’re there, Original. Show yourself.” Lycaon declared to the night air, plucking the cigarette from his lips.</p>
<p>Footsteps sounded behind him, and Lycaon turned around to meet them, eyes seeing the polished black shoes first, before travelling up the sharply cut suit and finally meeting the man’s dark eyes. </p>
<p>Lycaon’s lips curled in amusement.</p>
<p>“Elijah, I presume?” He guessed, inhaling another puff of his cigarette. The smoke twisted and danced as he breathed out, illuminated by the moonlight. </p>
<p>“You know who I am?” Elijah asked, clearly wary.</p>
<p>“Of course.” Lycaon inhaled the smoke one last time, before letting the stub drop to the floor, crushing it under his shoe to put it out. He eyed the vampire before him, a dangerous glint to his gaze. “You’re the <em>noble</em> Elijah, the Original Vampire with more blood on his hands than even my son.” Lycaon drawled. “Tell me, have you come here to kill me too?”</p>
<p>Elijah’s eyes narrowed. “We need to talk.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My character summary:</p>
<p>Lycaon: Doing his best impression of the big bad wolf from little red riding hood.<br/>Esther (according to BelleMorte180): <em>that fucking bitch</em><br/>Kiera: A motherfucking badass who's probably making bets with Sam as we speak on how long it will take for Klaus to stop being an oblivious boy.<br/>Caroline: Low-key jealous but still in deep denial, what a precious child<br/>Elijah: A drama queen as always.</p>
<p>And how could I forget,<br/>Klaus:</p>
<p>Taking lovesick puppy to a WHOLE new level</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. For which is the greater monster?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, you're probably wondering why I'm updating so soon.</p>
<p>Well.</p>
<p>Turns out, I am attention deprived soul. So when I received a bombardment of comments from you dear readers detailing how much you love this fic (you lot really love puppy!klaus huh?) I couldn't handle it. I was a mess, deceased. Dead by overload of love. Said overload of love translated as harrowing inspiration to write the next chapter and I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else for the last four days. So here you go. Chapter 8. All 9k of it.</p>
<p>And remember, if you truly love a piece of work, any fic from any fandom - bombard the writer with comments. They are not lying when they say your comments give them life. That they are the reason they write.</p>
<p>(We tell ourselves we write for ourselves, and that is true, but also a lie because seriously us writers need your comments like we need air).</p>
<p>So thank you dear readers,</p>
<p>This chapter is dedicated to you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elijah was the first to notice. That is, the first to notice when Niklaus truly became <em>Klaus</em>.</p>
<p>It started with the small things. Like how he no longer laughed the way he used to, open and carefree, his face colder than before. Ever since that fateful night, when his brother’s werewolf side was bound, Niklaus had been different somehow, in some kind of inexplicable way. At first, Elijah failed to place what <em>exactly</em> had changed, other than what their mother had done to him. </p>
<p>He thought perhaps it was grief - not even a day later and Niklaus found his blood father’s body, impaled on a stake by Mikael. The whole wolf pack was slaughtered alongside the alpha wolf, dozens of corpses - men, women, children - left for Niklaus to find, courtesy of Mikael’s wrath. And then they found their Mother’s body, heart ripped out of her chest in such a savage act of violence it shocked them all. They were all grieving - grieving Henrik, their Mother, who they were before they turned. And Niklaus… Niklaus had lost more than that. He had lost a father he would never know, and a family that could have become his home. The loss of such a possible future - <em>a beautiful future</em> - was probably the hardest to grieve and accept out of them all.</p>
<p>But as the years passed, and their family’s grief lessened with time, Niklaus did not revert to his old self. The little brother Elijah had known and cared for became harder and harder to glimpse. He once contemplated it was innocence that was now missing from Niklaus, but they were all missing that now, becoming the very monsters their Mother sought to protect them from. No, Niklaus was missing something unique, a loss his siblings did not share.</p>
<p>The first time Elijah managed to place what <em>exactly</em> was different, they were leaving the continent in an effort to escape their father’s ruthless pursuit. Kol had carelessly bled a sailor dry, finding out a ship was leaving port for the old world quite by accident. It was Rebekah’s idea to sneak aboard the ship, and then once at sea, feed on the crew that discovered them in the hold. They didn’t need food or water, not essentially like they used to, and could easily survive on blood alone for the duration of the journey.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Kol grew horribly sea-sick even with his new vampiric constitution, and spent most of the trip vomiting over the side. It was a terrible experience for their little brother, but a more amusing experience for them, and Elijah found himself laughing and teasing by Niklaus’ side when Kol turned slightly green every time the waves rocked the ship particularly violently. Elijah remembered cackling with Niklaus when Kol didn’t make it to the side in time, throwing up all over Finn instead. He moved closer in their shared mirth, clapping his brother on the back like the many times he had done before. However, his brother didn’t sling his arm over his shoulder like he normally would. No, this time - <em>this time Niklaus flinched</em>.</p>
<p>The laugh died on his brother’s lips, his smile immediately falling. Before Elijah could even recover from his shock, Niklaus had pulled away, putting a distance between them. Their siblings didn’t notice their exchange, Kol and Finn too busy trying to kill each other while Rebekah was clutching her sides, gleefully hysterical. For that, Elijah was slightly thankful, as there was no doubt a crushing amount of hurt painted across his face in that moment.</p>
<p>Once he had noticed it once, Elijah soon realised it wasn’t a fluke occurrence. Niklaus shied away from his touch, drawing away from him seemingly unconsciously. Strangely enough, he didn’t do it to the same extent with their other siblings, especially Rebekah. Niklaus had always had a soft spot for their little sister. Elijah began to think he had angered his brother somehow to receive such treatment.</p>
<p>But that wasn’t all. Niklaus was becoming colder, harder. His eyes always darted to the exits when he entered a room, and he always insisted to be the one to keep watch when they were forced to camp in the wilderness after they arrived on land. He became increasingly short-tempered, often snapping at Kol when he was being particularly careless, fearful of Mikael following the carnage Kol often trailed behind.</p>
<p>By the time they arrived in Gaul, or France as it was later known as, Elijah was getting increasingly worried. They all were. Spending so long on the run was beginning to take its toll, and tensions were running high. Thank whatever gods for the small mercy of meeting Lucien.</p>
<p>They inserted themselves easily into the Count’s court, thanks to the stableboy. That, and the Count’s weakness for female wills. They settled, quite happy for a while, some more than most - Kol developed quite the appetite, much to their dismay. When Niklaus fell for Aurora, Elijah glimpsed the little brother he had lost for the first time in years. His relief at such a sight was blinding, but that was quickly overshadowed by jealousy when he realised, although his brother was opening up to Aurora, the girl softening his sharp edges, Niklaus still put distance between them. Between his own brother. Why? Why trust a girl more than his own blood? They had made this mistake before with Tatia, nearly tearing them apart completely. Surely Niklaus saw that?</p>
<p>Kol’s large appetite, and then the raw hunger of Lucien, Aurora and Tristan, alerted Mikael. Elijah knew it would happen, had been asking Niklaus to leave for weeks and now he found himself being proven right in the worst possible way. His own fear turned him cruel, and upon seeing Aurora, he rejected her plea to join them.</p>
<p>And then he learnt of Niklaus’ betrayal. How he had killed their own <em>mother</em>.</p>
<p>The decision he made in that moment of rage and grief soon became one of his greatest regrets. Initially, of course, it was quite the opposite. He believed his brother didn’t deserve Aurora’s love, so he tore it away. In the months that followed, all Elijah could feel was vindictive pleasure every time he witnessed his brother’s heartbreak, satisfied he held secrets just like his brother did. But then those months turned into years - decades - and Elijah realised his brother’s heart wasn’t broken. </p>
<p>It was frozen. Harder than stone.</p>
<p>And it was <em>his</em> fault.</p>
<p>Paranoia infiltrated his brother’s mind, his trust in people becoming almost non-existent, even in regards to his siblings, and violence became his brother’s most trusted confidant. </p>
<p>Then Rebekah fell for a Hunter, the last spark in a fast-raging fire.</p>
<p>Their brother suffered half a century under the curse of the Five, haunted by hallucinations of Mikael and Esther, his blood father, even Henrik. Elijah heard him scream and whisper names of others, like Aurora or Tatia, even the wolves that were slaughtered by Mikael, driven mad as he was. Decades were spent trying to make sure his brother couldn’t end his own life. They were immortal, unkillable, but that didn’t mean Niklaus didn’t try. </p>
<p>Towards the end, he still remembered how Rebekah had voiced the question they were all thinking, fraught with despair at the sight of his pain. Would it be kinder to let him go? If he truly was cursed to spend eternity in torment, should they help him end it?</p>
<p>The day the hallucinations stopped was the day Nikalus Mikaelson truly died and another man walked away. <em>Klaus.</em></p>
<p>As the centuries passed, his brother gained other names. Names that were whispered in the dark, heavy with fear and horror. And all the while his brother became more ruthless, more bloodthirsty - more <em>violent</em>. He daggered their siblings, terrorised them in fits of jealousy and anger, killing lovers and friends. His enemies began to run at the very mention of his name, struck by such a feral fear only the mad ever dared oppose him.</p>
<p>Elijah began searching for hope, for some kind of redemption for his brother. He was the noble one, people started to say. Cleaning up Klaus’ messes, smoothing over damaged alliances. They thought he was a good man, that he did what he did out of compassion and honor, the only one of his siblings who had not become a monster. They were wrong. For Elijah knew, it wasn’t honor that drove his loyalty to Klaus. It was guilt. Guilt and regret. And knowing that, he knew he was not noble. </p>
<p>For which is the greater monster? The monster? </p>
<p>Or the maker of monsters?</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>
  <em>A piercing scream cut through the silence of the forest. Elijah grimaced, closing his eyes as he leant back against the tree trunk, out of sight. Not far away, Klaus was beginning to turn into his werewolf form for the first time in nearly a millennium. Elijah could hear every snap and crunch as his brother’s bones broke and realigned, new bones growing at an excruciating rate as the wolf finally awoke, breaking free from the bonds that had chained him for centuries. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>High above in the night sky, the full moon glowed like a yellow skull behind the clouds, a silent sentinel. Elijah waited, trying to ignore the cries of agony. After what felt like an age passed, he listened as another scream tore through air, trailing off into an animalistic howl halfway through. It died almost as abruptly as it started, and then… </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nothing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Elijah stilled, titling his head slightly in the direction he had left Klaus, straining his ears to pick up any movement. He could just about hear something breathing, but it was heavier than a human, closer to a pant. Leaves rustled and twigs snapped as that same something moved. Elijah carefully peeked out from his hiding spot, freezing instantly at the sight that greeted him. The wolf was huge.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As large as a stallion, possibly fifthteen hands tall. Elijah remembered the Black Wolf, Klaus’ biological father, from all those years ago. Remembered how large his wolf form was, how he had never seen a werewolf turn into anything like it since. And like the Black Wolf, his brother’s werewolf form was clearly powerful, his thick fur coat immensely dense, hiding the strong muscles found underneath. Yellow eyes shone in the darkness, bright and intelligent, the luminescent orbs unmissable. For the first time in his life, Elijah knew what it felt like to be the prey, not daring to make a sound, lest he reveal his presence to the predator.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He watched as the wolf shook his body, that fur pelt rippling like waves, releasing the remaining tension from the transformation that no doubt coiled within his limbs. It looked around the woods, scanning the trees with those unsettling lupine eyes, even putting his nose to the ground to root through the undergrowth, snout sniffing out interesting scents.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Despite how easily the situation could turn, the danger he was in blaring on the edge of his mind, Elijah relaxed, transfixed by the sight. He could understand why Klaus and Henrik had snuck out to watch the werewolves on a full moon. The beasts had a majestic, if fierce, charm to them that no other animal could ever hope to replicate. Elijah was in awe.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Suddenly, a branch snapped in the distance, several birds waking and taking flight into the night sky, spooked. The wolf’s head swiveled in the direction of the sound so fast it was a wonder he didn’t have whiplash. Elijah followed his gaze, observing the way the wolf tensed, his white and faded grey fur standing straight, as if electrified. A deep rumble built inside it’s throat, a warning growl escaping as the wolf bared his teeth. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For a moment, Elijah thought perhaps the Salvatore brothers had been stupid enough to follow and seek Klaus out, believing he could still be killed. But the intruder that stepped out of the shadows wasn’t a vampire. It was a wolf.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Black Wolf.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Centuries had past, but Elijah recognised the werewolf instantly. In the early years, his nightmares had been plagued by images of the beast so many times it was impossible to forget his form, fur pitch black and teeth sharper than swords. That yellow gaze branded his very soul in his dreams, promising vengeance for the injustice brought upon Klaus.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>How was he alive? Klaus had said he was dead, that Mikael had killed his father. And even if he had lied, how was the werewolf still alive after a thousand years? How was this possible?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Clearly, Klaus was not experiencing the same shock as Elijah. As soon as the Black Wolf revealed himself, his brother’s wolf relaxed, the threatening growl fading. Those furry ears perked up, and suddenly, his tail was swaying slightly, almost wagging, recognising his father before him. A low, unsure rumble rolled out of his throat, taking a step forward but not going any further.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Black Wolf responded, the sound he made welcoming, and moved forward to meet Klaus. Elijah watched, unable to move even if he wanted to, as the two wolves met in the centre of the clearing, heads lowered slightly and noses twitching as they familiarised themselves with each other’s scent. The Black Wolf waited patiently, allowing Klaus to come to him. And the grey wolf did just that, slowly approaching until they were both nose to nose, golden eyes locked.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In that moment, the entire clearing seemed to hold its breath, even the breeze stilling in the silence, not daring to release even a single whisper.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Klaus finally broke it; a low whine building in his throat before he stepped forward, brushing his head against his father’s neck in greeting. The Black Wolf mirrored him, pushing back against his son’s neck, the two embracing each other in a familial gesture. Elijah watched, lost for words, as the Black Wolf even licked his son’s ears, grooming the fur on the top of the younger wolf’s head, causing Klaus to shake his body again, the thick pelt rippling with each powerful movement. They pulled away from each for a moment, facing each other again, before pressing their foreheads together and closing their eyes, both wolves releasing a low, emotional whine.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Elijah placed a hand on the tree beside him, and swallowed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>All those years, all those <strong>centuries,</strong> when Klaus had searched relentlessly for a way to break the curse, Elijah had never understood <strong>why</strong>. Never understood why it meant so much to his brother that he released the wolf bound inside of him. He had spent the entirety of his human life without the wolf, before he triggered it. How could he miss it? Surely it only served as a reminder of their mother’s infidelity, of his standing as a bastard. Elijah knew how much that had always bothered Klaus, how he had always questioned ever since if he truly was their brother, despite Elijah’s - and the rest of their siblings - efforts to convince him of the contrary. Why would he want it in the first place if it was such a terrible reminder of everything he wasn’t? Everything he had lost, and could never have?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But now, Elijah realised the truth. Realised why Klaus had always regarded the full moon with sadness, and watched the few werewolves they had allied themselves with over the centuries with longing. It wasn’t the power of the wolf Klaus had sought, or merely to be a werewolf. He had sought a sense of belonging, of family and kinship. A <strong>pack</strong>.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And he had finally found it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As Elijah stood there - suddenly an interloper, unable to look away - as the two wolves pushed their heads forward, brushing against each other’s necks once more before parting. Klaus’ demeanor changed drastically as he jumped away, becoming playful. He barked at the Black Wolf, excited, leaping to the side and lowering onto his front paws, his rear in the air, tail wagging happily. His father barked back, the sound slightly deeper, and quickly jumped into the same position. Klaus’ wolfish features opened into a grin, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and suddenly he was running, slamming into the side of the Black Wolf and shoving him to the ground as he shot past.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It took a second for Elijah to realise Klaus had not in fact just attacked his father, but was <strong>playing</strong>.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Black Wolf recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and instantly taking up chase. Klaus, who had stopped on the edge of the clearing waiting for his father, yelped upon seeing so, leaping away. Elijah’s eyes widened as he watched the two wolves run, chasing each other around the edge of the clearing, yipping at each other’s heels and egging the other on. Klaus skidded to a stop, bracing himself for impact as the Black Wolf pounced on him, and suddenly they were tumbling through the dirt and leaves, a mass of fur and paws. Soft growls vibrated in the air as they rolled to a stop, rough-housing on the forest floor, Klaus pulling on his father’s ears with his teeth and nipping the side of his neck playfully. The Black Wolf exaggerated his reaction in response, pretending to play dead, and when Klaus stopped, leaning closer with his nose twitching in concern, his father pounced, throwing the younger wolf off his back and playfully pinning him to the floor. It was his turn now, and Klaus yelped as the Black Wolf nipped the younger wolf’s neck, his ears, his paws. Klaus gave as good as he got, the growls growing again as the two wolves fought amongst the leaves, baring their teeth in a teasing manner, never going too far.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Unconsciously, Elijah felt a smile grow on his face, amused by the sight, and without thinking, he huffed a laugh.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Black Wolf heard him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His huge head whipped up, yellow eyes narrowing on Elijah half-hidden behind the trees. The playful, if fierce, grin fell from the werewolf’s face, replaced by something far more dangerous. Elijah froze. Despite his heartbeat being slow as a vampire, Elijah felt it speed up, beating in his ears like thunderous drums. In that moment, he knew what it was like to be the prey, a noble stag staring down the wolf that would gladly eat him whole.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But as quickly as it occurred, the moment was broken.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Klaus, seemingly unaware of the way his father’s form had tensed, playfully attacked the Black Wolf again, rolling them both over. He went for his father’s ears, seemingly his favourite target, and pulled on them like some fleshy tug of war, oblivious to Elijah’s presence. The Black Wolf, however, clearly wasn’t oblivious, and kept sending Elijah glances as he tried to get Klaus to stop, only to repeatedly fail.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With the resigned look of someone who had been a chew toy before, and perhaps dealt with far more unruly youngsters than Klaus, the Black Wolf dropped his head onto his paws and glared at Elijah, as if daring him to say something. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Understanding the unspoken truce for what it was, the Original Vampire found himself pressing his lips together, desperately trying not to laugh. This time though, he made sure not to make another sound.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Eventually, gaining no reaction from his father, Klaus grew bored and jumped off the Black Wolf’s back, plopping down right next to his father’s face and rolling in the dirt. The Black Wolf raised his head to avoid Klaus knocking into him, eyeing his son with both exasperation and fondness as Klaus messed around. The younger wolf sent his father a goofy smile from his position laid on his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He rolled back onto his front, shaking the dirt from his fur, and leant against his father’s side. In response, the Black Wolf licked his son’s ears again, beginning to groom any piece of fur that was within reach. Klaus finally settled, relaxing into his father’s ministrations.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Elijah swallowed, pushing off from the tree he was stood by. Careful to keep his steps as quiet as possible, he began to retreat, knowing he shouldn’t be watching this. It was too intimate, too familial; something private. The Black Wolf clearly was in control, if he could so easily choose not to attack him, and therefore should keep Klaus from doing any damage to Mystic Falls. Elijah didn’t want to stay and risk unsettling the peace that had fallen over the two werewolves.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Silently, he backed away, keeping his eyes on Klaus and his father for as long as possible. When he got to a far enough distance, he turned and flashed away, aware of one pair of yellow eyes on his back.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It wasn’t long before the howling started, two voices echoing harmoniously through the woods, all the way to the Falls.</em>
</p>
<p>All Elijah could think about was that night. He had often wondered why the Black Wolf hadn’t told Klaus he had been there, or attacked him, period. Klaus certainly didn’t appear to know Elijah knew his father was alive, and considering their shaky relationship at the time, Elijah deliberately neglected to tell him. But that still didn’t stop the questions that formed in his mind, questions that only resurged when Lycaon revealed himself.</p>
<p>Elijah wasn’t stupid. Particularly when it came to common sense and basic observational skills. Although he wasn’t as paranoid as Klaus, he could sense a trap on any good day, and he had his doubts about his mother’s intentions. And then to listen to her conversation she had with Lycaon, to see the ease with which they danced in each other's arms fluidly, despite their clear hatred for one another, anyone with eyes could say they had history. Close, <em>intimate</em> history. Lycaon was probably the only person that could claim he knew their mother better than they did, and Elijah would believe it.</p>
<p>Which presented a problem. As Lycaon seemed deeply convinced their mother was plotting something.</p>
<p>Specifically, plotting Klaus’ demise.</p>
<p>Grimacing slightly, Elijah checked his cufflinks, one after the other, before fixing his black bow tie as he strode along the deserted hallway. He slowed his steps as he approached the open balcony doors, the thin white curtains billowing in the gentle breeze. He stilled, not daring to turn the corner yet, ears listening to that strong, rhythmic heartbeat metres away.</p>
<p>His discrete approach was for nought.</p>
<p>“I know you’re there, Original. Show yourself.”</p>
<p>Elijah hesitated, that fear from all those centuries ago rising, remembering the glow of those hellish yellow eyes. But his expression hardened, and with a few steps, he was standing on the balcony looking at the back of the man’s head, the figure silhouetted by the moonlight. Cigarette smoke twisted in the air, rising into the sky. Elijah waited.</p>
<p>The man took his time to turn around, lips curling up in amusement as his grey eyes travelled up Elijah’s form. The Original himself was making his own appraisal, unnerved by the similarity he found in the man’s features to his brother, from the dirty blond hair and striking cheekbones to the way those lips quirked at the sides, light glittering dangerously in his eyes.</p>
<p>It was easy to believe they were father and son.</p>
<p>“Elijah, I presume?” Klaus’ father guessed.</p>
<p>Elijah clenched his jaw slightly, wary of the man before him.</p>
<p>No, not a man.</p>
<p>A <em>werewolf</em>.</p>
<p>Elijah gathered himself, straightened his back. Then he opened his mouth to speak.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>Kiera made her way through the crowd, elegantly brushing past men and women on her way out of the ballroom. She made it into the hallway just in time to see Lycaon disappear up the grand staircase, his movements hurried, hastily pulling out his old lighter with a shaking hand.</p>
<p>Right. Probably should give the man a few minutes. </p>
<p>Kiera looked back behind her, seeing Klaus grab a drink off a waiter, emptying the glass in one go. She sighed.</p>
<p><em>Men.</em> Always so dramatic.</p>
<p>“Hello, darling.”</p>
<p>Kiera whipped her head back around upon hearing the greeting, only to freeze instantly when she recognised the roguish face in front of her.</p>
<p>“Kol.” She greeted tightly, already trying to step past the smirking Original.</p>
<p>Kol was quick, to her annoyance, and grabbed her arm in a tight grip, almost spinning her round to face him. “Woah, where do you think you’re going?”</p>
<p>Kiera eyed the hand that gripped her arm, her expression carefully blank. Unknown to Kol, anyone who knew her well would recognise the spark of rage that ignited in her eyes. “I need a drink.”</p>
<p>“I can get one for you.” Kol offered, smiling charmingly down at her. Keira could see through the act easily.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” She said, her smile as sharp as knives in response, “but someone else has already beat you to it.” She yanked her hand away, her old age enough for him to underestimate her strength.</p>
<p>Kol’s face showed no evidence of disappointment or anger, but she wasn’t fooled. “The little hybrid that follows Nik around like a lost puppy?” He asked, tone mocking. “Personally I think you can do better, darling.”</p>
<p>“Oh, do you?” She dared, raising an eyebrow. A manic grin spread across Kol’s face. </p>
<p>“Yes.” He declared confidently, moving closer, right into her space so they were almost nose to nose. “Besides, if you’re not Nik’s girl anymore…” He trailed off, hands rising to settle on her hips, moving lower, brushing her backside. “Well, looks to me like you’re going to need more <em>experienced</em> company.”</p>
<p>For a few precious moments, Kiera did nothing, staring up at the youngest Mikaelson with a carefully concealed expression. Then she smiled, wide and beautiful, moving into Kol’s embrace.</p>
<p>“I did always have a weakness for Mikaelson boys.” She whispered seductively, pressing up against Kol’s front. Her hands trailed up Kol’s arms, ending up at the back of his neck and pulling his head towards her. Kol’s roguish grin widened as she moved closer, triumphant in the face of her sudden eagerness, hands gripping her hips and bare back possessively. Kieral smiled, lips slowly moving to his ear. “But your brother always was my favourite.”</p>
<p>Kol yelped as Kiera drove her heel into his foot, simultaneously kneeing him in the crotch before he could react. Face contorting in agony, the Original curled over as Kiera stepped away with the elegance of a panther, looking down at him with a fierce fire only an eight hundred-year-old vampire could pull off. After all, she had shared a bed with Nikalus Mikaelson. Kol was little compared to that.</p>
<p>“Touch me again, and I’ll break all your fingers.” She hissed, her voice steady with violent promise, unmoved by the murderous glare Kol sent her from his position half-keeled over. </p>
<p>Then, not sparing him another glance, she walked away, ignoring the shocked glances and whispers from the guests around them. Off to the side, the blonde girl Klaus had been dancing with before stared openly in shock, mouth slightly agape. </p>
<p>Keira sent her a wink.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>____________________________________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>“We need to talk.”</p>
<p>Lycaon regarded the Original with hooded eyes.</p>
<p>“Alright.” He agreed, leaning back against the railing. He waved his arms, gesturing to Elijah. “Talk.”</p>
<p>“You’re the Black Wolf. Klaus’ father.” Elijah stated, stepping forward cautiously.</p>
<p>Lycaon frowned, eyes narrowing slightly.</p>
<p>“And you’re Elijah Mikaelson. Are we going to continue stating the obvious or do you intend to get to your point?”</p>
<p>Elijah looked away, catching sight of Klaus down below, talking with Caroline beside the carriage. Unlike the werewolf in front of him, he barely noticed the baby vampire, too focused on his brother. He turned his gaze back to Lycaon, contemplative. “How are you alive? Did Niklaus turn you?”</p>
<p>Lycaon raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a vampire to you? Or a hybrid, for that matter?”</p>
<p>Elijah frowned, lips curling slightly in disdain. “If you’re not a vampire, then <em>what</em> are you?”</p>
<p>“Apologies.” Lycaon’s face darkened, his tone harsh. “I don’t tell my enemies every secret they ask to know.”</p>
<p>“You see me as the enemy?”</p>
<p>“An enemy of my son is an enemy of mine.”</p>
<p>The comment hit its mark, a flash of hurt visible for a second across Elijah’s face. Then it was gone, replaced by passionate defiance. “I’m his <em>brother</em>. Despite his faults, I will <em>always</em> choose him. Whenever I stand against him, it is only because I’m trying to do what’s right.”</p>
<p> “What’s right?” Lycaon scoffed. “You plotted to kill him.”</p>
<p>“I thought he had killed our entire family. He <em>betrayed</em> me.”</p>
<p>“No.” Lycaon declared with a tone that broke no argument. “You betrayed him first.”</p>
<p>Elijah took a menacing step forward, eyes flashing with rage. “How did I-”</p>
<p>“You held Niklaus down while he screamed, begging you to help him, as your mother bound his werewolf side.” Lycaon cut in, voice sharp, burning the air with its frigid presence. Elijah fell silent. Lycaon pushed off from the railing, stepping closer to the Original. “Do you know, he still feels the phantom of your touch? Feels your hands holding him down while Mikael chained him up?” He asked aloofly, with an ease that was chilling. His lips twisted into a snarl. “I know that, because while you were chasing him around the world - and yes, you are right, I can’t fault you for wanting him dead, considering the lie he told you about your siblings whereabouts -” Lycaon admitted graciously, only for the hostility in his stance to return with twice the vengeance. “- he stayed with me, hiding from <em>you</em>. They didn’t happen often, but I remember vividly the nights I woke to his screams, experiencing that night over and over again when he closed his eyes, desperately pleading for you to <em>stop</em>.” He spat. He stepped closer, facing Elijah, almost nose to nose. “A thousand years. Still, that nightmare remains. Telling, that.”</p>
<p>Elijah met the werewolf’s eyes without fear, staring him down. “I made a mistake. You don’t need to tell me that. I know.”</p>
<p>“Do you?” Lycaon challenged. He tilted his head. “Because you didn’t seem to learn from that mistake.” He moved away, breaking the standoff, pretending not to notice when Elijah’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Again and again, you’ve betrayed him. Your siblings too, but you most of all. First, when you didn’t strike Mikael down the first time he laid a hand on Niklaus. Next, when your mother bound his werewolf side. And then again, when you broke his heart.”</p>
<p>Elijah shifted nervously on his feet, looking uneasy. Lycaon grinned wolfishly, all canine teeth.</p>
<p>“Yes, I know all about Aurora.” He confirmed, pleased to see Elijah swallow. “I spent over a century, nearly two, searching for my son. Like Mikael, I fell for the decoys you left behind. How did you explain to your siblings how you learned to compel others, by the way? You must be ever so good at lying.”</p>
<p>Elijah glared at him. “I’m sensing you don’t like me.”</p>
<p>“You want the honest truth?” Lycaon asked. “If Nikalus didn’t love you as much as he does, I would have killed you centuries ago.” Despite a white oak stake being the only thing that could kill him, Elijah didn’t doubt his words for a second. Lycaon cocked his head, eying Elijah up, and shrugged. “I was tempted to kill you that night, the night Niklaus broke the curse.” He mused.</p>
<p>“What stopped you?” Elijah ground out.</p>
<p>“Niklaus. I knew he had no control over the wolf at the time. He would have torn you apart, had I attacked. Followed my lead, <em>without question</em>. In his mind, he already has the blood of one brother on his hands. I refused to give him an even greater burden.” The werewolf explained, his voice softer.</p>
<p>The hostility evaporated from Elijah’s stance, his figure deflating. An understanding crept into the air, just like that night. Despite their differences, they had the same goal - to protect their family.</p>
<p>“And everything Niklaus has done? That is excusable to you?” He said, though it wasn’t an accusation. More a question, one born of curiosity.</p>
<p>Lycaon shook his head, laughing quietly. It was the saddest noise Elijah had ever heard. “If you truly knew how having the wolf bound affects someone, you’d forgive him in an instant.” He claimed. His eyes jumped to lock with Elijah’s gaze, that seriousness creeping back in. “You think your brother is broken. You look at him, and all you see is something that needs to be fixed. You see him as a tragedy, and driven by your own selfish guilt, you try to push him towards redemption, believing it is his responsibility to fix himself. Why? Why is it <em>his</em> fault?”</p>
<p>“Niklaus chose-”</p>
<p>“Niklaus chose nothing.” Lycaon interrupted again. “He never had a choice. Esther robbed of that, as did you, the minute you pinned him down. You wonder why he doesn’t trust you and his siblings? Why he daggers you? Perhaps it’s the only way he knows to make himself feel <em>safe.</em>”</p>
<p><em>From you</em> was left unspoken, but Elijah received the message loud and clear.</p>
<p>“I’ve been waiting a thousand years for him to break his curse, just so I can finally pick up the pieces that you and your family left behind when you destroyed him.” Lycaon continued. There was a threatening note in his voice as he spoke. “<em>Don’t</em> get in my way.”</p>
<p>“And if you decide to kill my mother, am I supposed to stand aside then too?” Elijah gestured with his hand, looking up to meet Lycaon’s gaze fearlessly.</p>
<p>The werewolf’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p>“I promised your mother I would kill her, but only<em>if</em> she laid a hand on my son. Hell, I might even do it if she lays a hand on any of you.” Lycaon declared, sending Elijah a meaningful glance.</p>
<p>Elijah was reminded of the words the werewolf had spoken to his mother, that he would have raised all of them as his own, if Esther had only asked. </p>
<p>“You believe she’s lying? About forgiving Niklaus?” Elijah questioned, a hidden insecurity in his voice, if one knew how to look for it.</p>
<p>Lycaon sent him a look of pity. “I know her a lot better than you, boy.”</p>
<p>“So that’s a yes?”</p>
<p>“What do you think?”</p>
<p>Elijah looked away, thinking. “Perhaps we can all still be a family-” He began, but was cut off.</p>
<p>“That would be one fucking dysfunctional family.” Lycaon glared. He stalked forward, brushing past Elijah, clearly intending to leave. “I mean it, Elijah, stay out of my way. And while you’re at it, try not to betray Niklaus again. Even my mercy only extends so far.”</p>
<p>“I am not afraid to admit I failed Niklaus.” Elijah stated, turning around. Lycaon stopped in his tracks, listening. “You act as if I am in denial, but I am not. I know my mistakes. Perhaps it is you who should look in the mirror, Lycaon. After all, it was you that abandoned Niklaus to Mikael.”</p>
<p>Lycaon half turned around, his glare deadly. “I didn’t abandon him.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t save him either.” Elijah pointed out.</p>
<p>The silence chafed, coiling in the air. Behind them, someone cleared their throat.</p>
<p>“Lycaon.” Kiera greeted as the two men turned their heads, stepping forward. One smoothly tanned leg appeared out the slit in her long, slim fitting white gown, before the fabric readjusted, concealing her once more. She turned her head to Elijah, eyeing him warily. “Elijah.”</p>
<p>“Miss Deucain.” He returned, with a respectful nod.</p>
<p>The female vampire smiled, amused.</p>
<p>“Eight hundred years and still not on a first name basis. If I didn’t know you well, I’d be offended.” She teased, turning to address Lycaon. “Esther is about to hold a toast.”</p>
<p>Elijah’s eyes narrowed, his hips turning slightly to face them both. “You know each other?” He asked, suspicion in his voice.</p>
<p>Keira looked at him again, considering the older vampire. “Of course.” She smirked. “I’m practically his daughter-in-law.”</p>
<p>Elijah gaped, shocked speechless. Keira’s serious expression only lasted a few seconds before she burst out laughing.</p>
<p>“Oh, you should see your face.” She wheezed, slapping Elijah’s shoulder lightly. “Relax, honestly. I didn’t marry Klaus.”</p>
<p>Elijah looked down to the spot where she had touched his tux, a look of outright offence crossing his face. “What-”</p>
<p>“I’m Sam’s mate. Klaus turned him into a hybrid?”</p>
<p>Smirking at the Original confused expression, Lycaon took pity on him and explained. “What Miss Deucain is trying to say is, I raised Samuel since he was a boy. As his significant other, that makes her practically family.” The werewolf smiled warmly down at her, and Keira returned it graciously.</p>
<p>Glancing between the two, Elijah’s accusatory gaze settled on Keira. “And how long have you known Lycaon was alive?”</p>
<p>Keira’s smile fell, sensing his change in mood. “Elijah-”</p>
<p>“How long, Keira?” He repeated, firmer this time, the use of her first name making it clear he wasn’t messing around.</p>
<p>Keira’s expression softened. “Not as long as you think. Several decades ago, not long after Klaus daggered Rebecca in Chicago. We met up, he asked me to travel with him for a while. You know, the usual. I met Lycaon when we visited his pack. Sam, a few decades later.” </p>
<p>“So for nearly a century?” Elijah concluded.</p>
<p>Keira sighed. “You weren’t there, Elijah. Who do you think he was going to turn to?” She asked pointedly.</p>
<p>The Original frowned. “I didn’t realise you were in the business of defending my brother, Miss Deucain.”</p>
<p>“I am, just only when he’s worth it.” She turned to Lycaon, saddling up to his side. “Now, are you going to escort me down to this Ball or not? No good hiding up here from the wicked witch - she might turn you into a toad.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure she’s tried.” Lycaon bitterly remarked, linking Kiera’s arm with his own.</p>
<p>The female vampire laughed, and smiled wide. “I’m sure she has.” She turned her gaze to Elijah. “Goodbye, Elijah. Lovely to see you, as always.”</p>
<p>“And you, Miss Deucain.” Elijah returned with a respectful nod and a frown.</p>
<p>Sending him a reassuring smile, Keira inclined her head back as she led Lycaon away. When they left the balcony, walking through the mansion once more, only then did Lycaon speak.</p>
<p>“Thank you for the save, my dear.” He whispered, amused.</p>
<p>“After living as long as I have you learn to recognise the look of someone in desperate need of saving. When it’s because of Elijah, you can even smell it.” She whispered back, grinning mischievously.</p>
<p>Lycaon chuckled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>“Caroline!”</p>
<p>Caroline sighed, closing her eyes, but stopping in the middle of the crowd to wait for Klaus nonetheless. He appeared moments later, looking slightly nervous, uncharacteristic of him.</p>
<p><em>I fancy you</em> echoed in her head, still ringing there even after she abandoned him next to that horse.</p>
<p>“What?” She snapped, turning around to face him.</p>
<p>“My mother is about to hold a toast. Would you like to join me?”</p>
<p>She laughed, a sound of disbelief. She glared at him. “You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you?”</p>
<p>“No, I can’t say I do.” He said with a grin. “So, would you?”</p>
<p>Caroline folded her arms across her chest, frowning. “Why don’t you ask the woman you were dancing with earlier.”</p>
<p>Klaus’ eyes twinkled in amusement.</p>
<p>“Keira?”</p>
<p>“Yes, her.” She snapped, rather too forcefully.</p>
<p>Klaus noticed, looking down to hide his smirk.</p>
<p>“Well, I would, but she’s spoken for, unlike you.” He looked up at her, with those stupid blue eyes and Caroline absolutely hated him.</p>
<p><em>Hated</em> him.</p>
<p>She scoffed, forcing herself to focus on the part of that sentence that implied he certainly knew how to charm women, with no care of whether they were tied down or not. “Why am I not surprised?”</p>
<p>She turned around, intending to leave him behind.</p>
<p>She was not running from him. <em>Nope.</em></p>
<p>“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, love.” He called after her.</p>
<p>Caroline stopped walking, her face contorted with rage. She whirled around, stalking back up to him and glaring fearlessly into his smug face. </p>
<p>“I am <em>not </em>jealous.” She snarled.</p>
<p>He smirked. Caroline seriously considered punching him.</p>
<p>“Of course not, love.” He pacified.</p>
<p>Caroline narrowed her eyes. “If I agree to accompany you, will you leave me alone?”</p>
<p>“I’ll certainly consider it.” </p>
<p>“Fine.” Caroline growled, offering him her arm. She tried to ignore his touch as he linked her arm in his.</p>
<p>She failed.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>_________________________________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>Lycaon stood by Keira near the back of the vast room, eyes roaming over the guests. His gaze flickered to Elijah, now standing with the doppelganger. His lips moved into a flat line.</p>
<p>“Thought I’d find you two here.” The new voice caused Lycaon to spin, caught off guard, one hand rising slightly, shoulders tensing, but when he saw the face of the speaker stepping towards, the Alpha relaxed.</p>
<p>“Sam.”</p>
<p>“Hi, Dad.” </p>
<p>Sam smiled, his gaze warm. Lycaon returned it.</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes moved to Keira, and he stepped forward, curling an arm around her waist and leaning down to place a kiss on her hair. “Hey.”</p>
<p>Keira smiled up at him. “Hey, you.” She fixed his bow tie.</p>
<p>“I see you’re not collecting supplies.” Lycaon mused, his implication clear.</p>
<p>The young hybrid winced, one arm still wrapped around his mate. “Ah, right...yeah. Sorry?”</p>
<p>“You’re a hybrid now.”</p>
<p>“...Yes?”</p>
<p>A waiter passed them, offering them glasses of champagne. Lycaon picked three up as he spoke, handing Sam and Keira theirs. “I’m not angry with you Samuel.”</p>
<p>“You’re...not?” Sam slowly asked, as if expecting a trick.</p>
<p>“No.” Lycaon declared firmly. He sighed, looking around the room again. “What’s done is done. I only wish you could have told me.”</p>
<p>Sam swallowed, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. “I didn’t know how you were going to react.”</p>
<p>Lycaon turned his head back to the hybrid, sporting a look of offence. “Samuel, I have never shamed Niklaus for his nature. Whatever made you think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”</p>
<p>“It’s not that, even though it is because of Nik.” Sam began to explain, taking a deep breath as he did. “I knew you would support my wishes, Lycaon. But I also know that everything that happened to Nik, what Esther did… it broke your heart.” Sam looked at Lycaon’s face, trying to gauge his reaction, but the Alpha werewolf’s expression was carefully blank. “I didn’t want to remind you of that if something went wrong.”</p>
<p>His jaw clicked, the only indication of opinion on the matter. Then he looked at Sam, sighing again, a new tiredness in his voice. “You were always too smart for your own good, son.”</p>
<p>Sam grinned. “Well, you taught me well.” He nudged Lycaon’s shoulder, who sent him a fond smile. </p>
<p>“Well, she’s gathered everyone here. When is this toast?” Keira murmured impatiently.</p>
<p>“No idea.” Sam grinned, raising his eyebrows at the two of them. “Though, have you heard the gossip?”</p>
<p>“What gossip?” Keira asked with interest.</p>
<p>Sam regarded her pointedly. “<em>You</em> already know.”</p>
<p>Keira’s eyes widened in realisation, her expression molding into a smirk. “Oh, <em>that</em> gossip.”</p>
<p>Lycaon raised an eyebrow, turning towards them. “Care to inform an old man what exactly you’re talking about?”</p>
<p>“Nik’s got a new lady friend.” Sam declared, nodding his head over to Klaus and Caroline. “Her name’s-”</p>
<p>“Caroline.” Lycaon finished for him, eyes fixed on the baby vampire once more.</p>
<p>Sam floundered for a moment, shocked. “-Yes… How did you…?”</p>
<p>Lycaon didn’t turn to face him, but answered. “He met her, the night he broke the curse.”</p>
<p>“He did?” Sam questioned, face moulding into a frown. “Nik didn’t mention that.”</p>
<p>Lycaon hummed, straightening his back. “That would be because Niklaus doesn’t remember the encounter, as far as I’m aware.” Lycaon tilted his head, contemplative. “Though, in his defence, his mind must have been overwhelmed at the time, what with the onslaught of new senses. It makes sense for his first transformation to be a blur.”</p>
<p>Keira blinked. “Wait. You’re saying… the wolf met her? <em>The wolf?</em> Not Klaus?”</p>
<p>Lycaon hummed again, keeping his eyes on Caroline.</p>
<p>“And it didn’t try to <em>eat</em> her?” Sam asked incredulously.</p>
<p>“No. It didn’t.” Lycaon’s eyes narrowed, watching Klaus hand Caroline a glass of champagne. “Curious, that.”</p>
<p>Sam looked between Lycaon and Klaus, eyes jumping between the two. He raised a finger and pointed it at Lycaon, eyes widening when he recognised the look in his adoptive father’s eyes. “You can’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking.” He hissed, jabbing the finger at him.</p>
<p>“Have you seen Niklaus look at anyone the way he looks at her?” The Alpha asked, finally turning his head to look at Sam. He was looking at Caroline in outright denial.</p>
<p>“She <em>can’t</em> be.”</p>
<p>“It appears she is.” </p>
<p>“But-”</p>
<p>“Not here, Sam.” Lycaon warned. He inclined his head to the vampires in the room. “Too many hidden ears.”</p>
<p>“Fine. But we’re talking about this later.” Sam muttered. “I saw Elijah go after you earlier. What did he want?”</p>
<p>“To threaten him, mostly.” Keira replied dryly.</p>
<p>Lycaon frowned at her. “That’s not exactly true, dear.”</p>
<p>“Elijah may be polite about it, but that was definitely him threatening you.” She insisted.</p>
<p>“Finn has been giving you the evil eye all evening too.” Sam added.</p>
<p>Lycaon sighed. “Kol and Rebekah?”</p>
<p>“Don’t think Kol cares.” Sam informed with a frown. “Rebekah looks more angry than anything. I think she doesn’t like that Nik hasn’t approached you yet and what that implies. You know - how Nik has been lying to them for centuries about you.”</p>
<p>“Wonderful.” Lycaon deadpanned.</p>
<p>“One of those Salvatore brothers also keeps glaring at you. I can go bite him, if you want.” Sam offered with a grin.</p>
<p>Lycaon sent him a withering glare, eerily reminiscent of Klaus. “Please, don’t.”</p>
<p>“Urgh. The Salvatores.” Keira shivered, eyeing Damon with disdain.</p>
<p>“You’ve met them?” Sam asked.</p>
<p>“I know<em> of </em>them. I knew a vampire a long time ago. Lexi. She knew the younger one, the ripper.” She shook her head. “Lexi was a firecracker, for sure. There was this one time we spent a few months in LA together, during the 70s, gods that was a wild decade…”</p>
<p>Keira carried on, and Sam smiled, listening intently to her story. He raised his champagne glass to his lips, intending to take a sip, but suddenly froze.</p>
<p>He lowered the glass, frowning, that hybrid nose catching a whiff of something that should not have been there.</p>
<p>Lycaon caught the look in Sam’s eyes, and his own face curled into a concerned frown. “Sam?”</p>
<p>Sam stared down into the glittering champagne, the golden bubbles sparkling in the light. He watched as the liquid danced and swirled, a faint trace of something else, something <em>red</em>, fading from the gold.</p>
<p>Sam swallowed.</p>
<p>“There’s something in the champagne.”</p>
<p>Lycaon frowned harder, raising his own glass and sniffing the contents. Keira kept her eyes on Sam, face incredulous with disbelief and confusion.</p>
<p>“What do you mean there’s something in the champagne?” She hissed.</p>
<p>“Can you smell it?” Sam asked Lycaon, ignoring Keira’s question.</p>
<p>Lycaon slowly lowered his glass, eyes as hard as glaciers. His eyes darted to Sam. “Yes. Not as well as you, I’d guess. Smells like-”</p>
<p>“Blood.” Both Sam and Lycaon said at the same time. They exchanged a significant look.</p>
<p>“Blood?” Keira echoed. She raised her own glass, sniffing the contents. “But why can’t I smell it, if it’s blood then surely a vampire-”</p>
<p>“Babe, we’re surrounded by walking blood bags. I think your inner predator has bigger fish in the sea to fry. Besides, it’s not the only thing I can smell.” Sam leaned down again, inhaling the champagne’s scent. “There’s something sweet, a little smokey. But there’s also something else, like-” Sam paused, scrunching up his nose. “-earthy, a herb maybe, something cool scented, even a little minty actually-”</p>
<p>“Sage. You can smell sage.” Lycaon realised, a look of fear starting to cross his face.</p>
<p>Sam looked at him, eyes widening in realisation. “Isn’t sage used in privacy spells?” He hissed.</p>
<p>Lycaon’s fists clenched.</p>
<p>“She spelled it.” He breathed. His gaze moved to Esther, who still stood overlooking the crowd on the staircase. “Whatever she spiked the champagne with, she spelled it so the vampires can’t smell it.”</p>
<p>“Forgot to spell it against a wolf’s nose though didn’t she, the fucking bitch.” Keira snarled, sending <em>said</em> witch a death glare.</p>
<p>“Lycaon, that’s not all.” Sam began gravely. He waited for Lycaon to look at him before he continued. “It’s the doppelganger’s blood.”</p>
<p>They all looked at each other.</p>
<p>“If it’s the doppelganger’s blood then whatever spell she cast…” Keira trailed off, her words left unspoken but not unheard. Doppelgangers were powerful amplifiers in magical spells. If Esther used the doppelganger’s blood in a spell… whatever she was planning, it was<em> big</em>. </p>
<p>And the champagne was spiked with it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p>
<p>“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Waiters are coming around with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass.”</p>
<p>Lycaon’s panicked eyes zeroed on his son, standing on the other side of the vast room. “Niklaus-”</p>
<p>“On it.” Sam declared, quickly handing his glass to Keira. </p>
<p>The hybrid spun, quickly pushing through the guests around him, heading straight for Klaus who was standing closer to the staircase, champagne glass in hand, right beside Caroline.</p>
<p><em>Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>Nik!</em>” Sam hissed, drawing closer to Klaus. “<em>Nik!</em>” Hearing him, the hybrid in question turned, frowning at Sam as he approached.</p>
<p>“What’s got you all worked up, mate?” Klaus asked, before his eyes narrowed, tone turning more hostile, Caroline looking between him and Sam nervously. “Speaking of, what’s this I’ve been hearing about you turning on a full moon with <em>Keira in the same bloody room</em>.”</p>
<p>“It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one.” Esther declared to the crowd overhead. “I’d like to thank all of you for being a part of this <em>spectacular</em> evening.”</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up and listen to me.” Sam snarled, grabbing Klaus’ arm. His uncharacteristic seriousness was enough to shock Klaus into stillness, and when Sam leaned in, whispering into Klaus’ ear so quietly that even the vampires in the room would struggle to hear it, he listened.</p>
<p>Esther raised her glass. “Cheers!”</p>
<p>Sam leaned back, the expression on Klaus’ face eerily blank. The Original hybrid raised his glass towards his nose, sniffing the champagne’s scent. His eyes snapped up to Sam. Their gazes locked.</p>
<p>“Cheers!” The whole room echoed, raising their glass and taking a sip of the champagne.</p>
<p>Caroline moved to do the same, but suddenly a hand snapped out, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding her glass in a vice-like hold. She turned, eyes meeting Klaus’.</p>
<p>“You don’t want to drink that, love.”</p>
<p>She glared at him. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Because my mother has spiked the champagne.” He whispered, leaning in close. “Raise the glass to your lips but don’t drink any, understand?”</p>
<p>“Klaus-”</p>
<p>“Just do it, Caroline. <em>Please.</em>”</p>
<p>Caroline frowned, blinking slightly at the begging note to his voice. Slowly, she nodded.</p>
<p>Klaus glanced at Esther, and when she turned towards them, looking directly at Klaus, only then did he raise his glass. Caroline copied him, raising the glass to her lips but not letting the liquid inside touch them. Seemingly satisfied, Esther looked away, and Caroline followed the witch’s gaze to each Original in the room, one after the other.</p>
<p>“She’s checking all of your siblings have drunk it.” Caroline breathed in realisation, lowering her glass.</p>
<p>Klaus followed her gaze, his jaw clenching. “Yes. She is.” He gently pried the champagne glass from her fingers, handing both hers and his to Sam. “Get rid of it.” He ordered.</p>
<p>“With pleasure.” Sam regarded the champagne with disdain, already moving away.</p>
<p>“What was in it?” Caroline asked worriedly.</p>
<p>“A spell of some kind. And blood.” Klaus answered shortly, looking tense.</p>
<p>“But I didn’t smell-”</p>
<p>“Trust me, love, my sense of smell is quite superior to yours. There was blood in it.” He snapped harshly.</p>
<p>Caroline glared at him, but shut up, turning away.</p>
<p>Klaus sighed. “My apologies… My mind is rather preoccupied at the moment, love.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I gathered that.” She muttered, refusing to look at him. Caroline glanced his way, her face softening at his tired expression. “What do you plan to do about it?” She asked quietly.</p>
<p>“Nothing.” At Caroline’s look of incredulity, Klaus nodded towards Lycaon. “My father seemed to have a plan of his own, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>The man in question had a dark expression on his face, his gaze not breaking away from Esther’s figure once.</p>
<p>“And you’re just going to let him? Let him do whatever he wants?”</p>
<p>“He warned her, Caroline. Told her he’d rip out her heart if she harmed me. Potentially poisoning my drink is probable I would say, sweetheart.” Klaus asked, causing Caroline to scoff. “Besides, I’d rather not get in his way.”</p>
<p>Caroline narrowed her eyes. “You’re afraid of him.” She stated.</p>
<p>Klaus looked at her sharply, a deep frown on his face. “No. I was afraid of <em>Mikael</em>.” Klaus turned his head, looking over at his father. “I <em>respect </em>him.” He declared. “There’s a significant difference.” He muttered as an afterthought.</p>
<p>Caroline wasn’t convinced.</p>
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